The Ivory Tower
by Liym Enello
Summary: AU. Rukia has spent the last five years in the Seireitei Asylum, dreaming of escaping the bleached white walls. The only thing she needs is a plan. Can the new, crazy, orange-headed patient give her that plan? Or is he a psychopath just like her? Love in the asylum ensues. NEW CHAPTERS!
1. Episode 1: The Pallor

THE IVORY TOWER

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Episode 1: The Pallor

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**A/N: Yes, I've started a new fic. The idea for this has been nagging in my head for the past couple days. I just couldn't get rid of this idea! Please review and favorite? I'll also be updating Sacrament regularly so please don't worry. Alright, let as continue! Tell me if you like it! It's going to be… dark.**

/

I've been used, abused, and tampered with. I've been stolen, rotten, and downright selfish. All for the wrong reasons. I've loved, lost, and loved, and lost. How many times? I've lost track. But you know what I haven't lost? An audience to my madness. There are evil people in this world that do evil things. But do you know the people that are even worse? It's the one's that watch evil. Smell it, taste it, feel it in their bones but they don't do anything to stop it. They are my audience, and I bow and stand before them with a fake smile, a dull look in my eyes as the heavy red curtain falls around me on my stage. When I stare at them … they see through me, and I know that I'll be lost. Lost forever in a curtain of red with no way –

Out.

~.~.~.~

My name is Kuchiki Rukia, and I'm twenty-one years old. I've been in the Seireitei Asylum for about… five years now? It's hard to keep track sometimes. When I first arrived in this bleached white hell I was sixteen. So yeah, about five years. Wow. How time flies when you're having _fun_. Do you know that one saying, "The first night in prison is always the hardest," ? The same goes for insane asylums. Except it isn't the first night that's the hardest. It's _every_ goddamn night.

When I'm strapped in my cot by my ankles and my wrists, and the lights, (the brightest you will ever have to see or endure) turn off, I'm left to my own thoughts. My feelings. My pleasures, my dislikes. …My loathing. It's even worse to be alone than it is to be with the dreadful therapists I see every afternoon. God, I hate this place. I have to get—

Out.

~.~.~.~

"Wake up." An obnoxious, voluptuous red-head shakes my shoulder. She then loosens the straps on my ankles and wrists, but not before giving me my daily shot. They say it's for medical reasons. To keep my body healthy. But I know that the clear liquid she is injecting into my IV a light sedative meant to keep me from strangling anybody.

"It is a brand new day Ms. Kuchiki!" Says the woman with the mountainous breasts. When I think about it, I swear she could use those huge ta-ta's as a murderous weapon, if she really wanted to.

It would be a quick suffocation.

I smirk at the thought, the sides of my mouth curling up a bit as I hum in response. I don't actually say a word. In fact, I haven't spoken at all since I arrived at the Seireitei Asylum. Not a simple "Okay," "Please," or "Thank you." Not even a syllable.

"It's so beautiful out, isn't it, Ms. Kuchiki?"

My gaze lifts, my eyes toward the ceiling where my window sit's. A sun roof. The window is kept very clean, just like the rest of Seireitei. There isn't a speck of dust or dirt to found anywhere. I stare at the window, trying to look through it to the world beyond the hell. There is a lone, almost black cloud against a gray sky. Perfect.

I might as well be colorblind.

"Alright. Let's get you dressed." The red-head said bubbly and removed the straps around my wrists and ankles completely. I rolled my wrists as I sat up, relieving them of the tension built up from staying in one position all night. I roll my neck too, and hear a couple cracks as I do so. The red-head cringes, mumbling something about a nasty, bad habit. I furrow my brows. She doesn't even know how quickly I could kill her. How easily, right now. But I don't. She seems like such a good person, even if she's annoying as hell with her huge breasts and high-pitched voice.

I swing my legs over the cot and rest my bare feet on the floor. The red-head, (I glance at her white name tag on her white nurse outfit), Rangiku Matsumoto, pulls out a cart burdened with pills, anesthetics, extra pillows, sheets, and my set of clothes for today. White, slim-fit t-shirt, white sweat pants. I quickly slip out of my white nightdress and put on my new clothes. The shirt is soft, but the pants feel a little itchy. I scratch my thigh and check the cart for any kind of sharp object like a needle, or maybe a syringe. There are none, and the needle used to inject the sedative into my IV has already been put into a Hazard bag and is being held by Matsumoto in her right hand. Then she sighs and hands me a pair of white socks. I put those on too.

"Would you like to wear slippers or sneakers today?" Matsumoto asked, holding up a pair of the bleached white commodities.

I grab the sneakers from her without saying anything. I never wear the slippers, anyway. They make me feel like a looney.

"Well, I think that's all. Someone will be by in a few minutes to escort you to breakfast." Matsumoto winks at me and places her hands on the cart.

I almost ask: _Why can't you take me? _But I know that I've sworn to silence. I huff and go sit on my cot while Matsumoto pushes her cart out of the door after saying goodbye to me softly. She locks the door behind her with an electronic combination lock. No keys. Nothing I can steal to get—

Out.

~.~.~.~

I sit on the cot and stare at the wall for what seems like hours, even though another assistant dressed in white opens the door exactly three minutes after Matsumoto left. He is tall, with broad shoulders under white scrubs. He has eccentric, bright red hair in a ponytail and multiple tattoos covering his face. I raise an eyebrow, surprised that anyone would be willing to hire him to an asylum, and get up from the cot.

"Hello, Ms. Kuchiki." He gestures out the door. "Please follow me."

At least he's polite. I sigh and follow him through the door out into the white tiled hallway. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever met the person who designed this building.

I'd probably rip the skin from his bones.

The tall escort leads me down the long hallway. We pass multiple patients along the way. The more aggressive ones, like me, have escorts while the calmer, more contained ones do not. We pass a strange, blue haired man I know as Grimmjow. I've seen him multiple times since being imprisoned here. He's usually guarded by at least two escorts, at all times. I've only seen him while passing by in the halls. I never see him in any of the common areas like the Eating Space, or Activity Space. Apparently he's too unstable for that even though he's been living here for 10 years. I give him a nod, out of respect, and he smirks at me, his sharp teeth showing. He runs a tongue over them and laughs before a tall, dark haired escort pushes him roughly in the back to keep him moving.

"Lovely day, isn't it, Kuchiki?" I hear him shout from down the hallway as the tall red-haired man and I keep walking towards the Eating Space. The red-haired man places a hand on the small of my back as he leads me, and tightens his hold at the sound of Grimmjow's voice. I cringe at the contact of his hand over my clothed skin, and walk faster in order to not be touched. The man understands, and removes his hand from my back with a mumbled "Sorry."

When we arrive at the Eating Space, the red-haired man opens the double doors for me using his assistant access pass. I glance at his nametag out of curiosity. Renji Abarai. I'll remember that name so I can kiss his ass for touching me when I get out of here. I slip through the doors, and they are closed behind me and locked with an annoying _**BEEP**_.

My eyes scan the room lazily as I get in line for breakfast. There are guards posted every four feet of the perimeter of the room. They are all dressed in white uniforms, and carry Tasers and nightsticks on their belts. I know that they also have an issued gun, but they keep them hidden in order to keep us patients from panicking. I sigh, and grab a tray, white of course. The food is arranged in a buffet style. We can help ourselves to whatever we like without pay. The food is separated into different buffet counters in order of their food group. Grains, meat, fruit, and desert. The food is the only thing I see with color during the day. Besides people's hair, and eye colors and the few odd pens or pencils. Everything else is white.

I grab a yellow Granny Smith apple from the fruit buffet and place it on my tray. I also dish up some eggs from the meat and poultry buffet and a carton of milk.

We're allowed to sit wherever we like; to be amongst friends, but of course I don't have those so I sit at an empty table in the farthest corner of the room. I eat silently, casually watching the guards posted at the walls and my fellow inmates talking amongst themselves. Some of the patients point and smirk at me, wiggling their eyebrows in a suggestive way. I glare back at them with my piercing violet eyes until they look away, feeling uncomfortable before brushing it off and laughing again.

I can glare at them, but they still see through me as if I'm glass.

Self-Righteous bastards.

I poke at my eggs with my plastic spoon. They don't hand out forks. Knifes are out of the question. If anything is needed to be cut it is cut prematurely for the consumer.

I shovel the eggs into my mouth without really thinking about it. Just going through the daily routine. Then I nibble on my apple until the a bell sounds the end of breakfast hours. I blink once before closing my eyes entirely and imagining I was someplace dark, with no bells or whiteness.

It's a comforting th(ou)gh(t).

~.~.~.~

My eyes snap open to the sound of doors slamming against tiled walls right next to me. A tall, willowy boy with strange orange hair and a stranger fierce look in his amber eyes barges into the room, five feet away from my table. He's stolen an assistant's access security card and had broken into the Eating Space. It appears as if he doesn't know what he's doing, or where he's going, only that he needs to leave. Needs to get out. Run from whatever he left behind.

Hah, don't we all.

His ochre eyes dart back and forth, trying to make sense of the space around him. His eyes widen at the realization that he is in a mess hall. He suddenly shouts angrily, knowing that there is no way out, and jumps on top of my table with alien grace. I flinch as the weight of his body pummels my table. He holds the access card up in victory, his eyes up to the bright (so, so bright) lights situated on the ceiling and lets out a long battle cry in a rough, but velvety voice. Most of the patients in the room drop their food to whoop and whistle at him, clapping for him or pumping their fists at his rebellion.

The bizarre orange haired boy smirks, his smile a bit lopsided, and breathes deeply, soaking in his success. I raise an eyebrow at him when he looks down at me, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

This all passed in about five seconds. Then the guards situated in the room grabbed hold of their bearings and started running towards the boy on top of my table. The tall boy laughed, and leapt off the table, landing on the white tile by the balls of his feet. He turns to wink at me quickly and salute me before running across the room.

The patients continue to whoop for him as the guards clad in white surround the orange haired boy. I find my hands moving together to clap for him, also, a small smile ghosting over my lips. The boy looks around the room frantically, trying to find an exit only to be disappointed. He holds up his hands in defeat, the access card settled between his index and middle finger. One guard with a particularly mean scowl swipes the access card out of his hands and another one makes as if to hit him with his nightstick.

Seeing the furiousness of the guards, the patients suddenly go silent. The guard smacks the orange haired boy across the head with his stick, and the boy falls to the ground. I gasp, my hand covering my mouth. A few of the patients groan with him, his pain their pain, and some of the more aggressive patients start to run over to help the orange haired boy only to be detained by their muscular escorts.

A guard tazzes the orange haired boy, causing him to writhe against the ground. Angry shouts are now heard throughout the Eating Space, calling the guards out on their cruelty on such a young patient. The guards stop beating him after a few more moments and they left him up off the ground, by his elbows. The boy's head is sagged in defeat, and his feet slide across the ground as the guards drag him towards to door.

Before the strange rebellious boy disappears out of my line of sight, I see him lift his head towards the guards dragging him and say:

"Fuck you all."

I smirk. I think I have finally found someone in hell who I have something in common with.

/

**A/N: Well, there you go! Did you like it? I hope you did. :'D Please review! I really want your opinion on this fic so I know if I should keep this going… or not.**


	2. Episode 2: The Disruption

THE IVORY TOWER

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Episode 2: The Disruption

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My wrists pull on the sharp metal handcuffs that gleam in the light of the moon through the barred window. Court is over. My lawyer pleaded long-term insanity to my case and I'm being transported to the Seireitei Asylum for a minimum of 7 years. For therapy and solitary confinement. I'm in an armored car, the chains on my handcuffs attached to the bench I'm sitting in. It creaks annoyingly with every dip and crack in the road. I sigh, flashes of my father standing up in court, knocking his chair over when I was announced guilty, bellowing that he has a good son, an honest son; penetrated my mind. I lift my hands up to run large hands through my orange spikes. I'm not even worried about spending 7 years in an asylum. What I'm really worried about it how my little sisters are going to cope with my passing.

It's almost like I'm dead to them.

At least for 7 years or so.

Maybe I'll be allowed visitors. If I'm lucky. But I specifically told my father that I don't want my sisters to see me until I am 100% ... stable.

I groan, a few tears welling up in my eyes but I do not let them fall in front of the three police officers in the car with me. They're dressed all in black. They have guns. They have shields with the words S.W.A.T. painted on them in white. I look up at them.

"Am I really that dangerous?"

"Be quiet." One of the officers kicks my bench with his heavy black boot. I shake my head at him, and then lean back, my head touching the cold metal of the car's wall.

"Fuck you." I smirk, my eyes closed. I'm so tired. I haven't slept in four days. But I can't sleep. Because then I would dream.

I cannot allow myself to dream.

~.~.~.~

We arrive at Seireitei Asylum five hours later without much trouble. For me, anyway. The police officers in the car with me were on edge during the entire ride.

I wonder why.

A police officer with an overly grown, anti-groomed and anti-cared for mustache speaks. "Get up."

I do as I'm told with a cocky smile on my face. All the police officers in the room raise their guns and aim at me as Mr. Mustache takes out a shiny set of keys. He looks at me, no, more like glares, for a long time into my eyes. "No funny business." He says, and then places the keys into the lock on my handcuffs. I raise up my hands, as if in defense, and he unlocks the cuffs.

I want to massage my wrists, to bring life back into them from their soreness, but I know if I so much as twitch without handcuffs on it would be the last thing I ever did.

In this life, at least.

"Put this on." Says Mr. Mustache as he hands me a straight jacket. I roll my eyes, and do as I'm told. I slowly, ever so slowly as their guns are aimed at me, slip on the white colored shirt. A straight jacket is much like a normal long-sleeved cotton shirt, except that it's made out of extremely durable material instead of cotton and has extra-long sleeves.

Understanding the drill, I slowly cross my arms over my chest. Mr. Mustache takes the long sleeves and arranges them at my back in a criss-cross pattern. He secures it with a number of straps and compartments that I couldn't even dream of naming, and secures me.

"Move." He pushes my back. "But remember. No funny business."

I nod, and smirk at him, a vicious gleam in my eyes. I see a bead of sweat form on the side of his face under my stare. I chuckle. Officer #1 opens the doors to the back of the car while Officer #2 keeps a gun pointed at my heart. Mr. Mustache has a hand securely tightened around the straps on my straight jacket. I smile and walk out of the car as soon as Officer #1 jumps out to aim a gun at me as I walk.

Officer #2 closes the doors of the car and bangs them twice. The car rumbles away and leaves us in the dust.

The first thing I noticed about the Seireitei Asylum is that it was very, very white. Modern looking. Tall, long glass windows scaled the three-story, multi-level building made of white brick that looked more suitable for a prison than an asylum. The roof was flat, probably covered with small rocks at the top, I assumed, with a few sunroofs scattered about.

There was a large grass yard spotted with ponds and a few trees that led into the asylum. It had two huge metal doors that led inside.

All in all, it looked very, _very_ expensive. I wonder what lengths my father took in order to pay for my luxurious getaway.

How nice of him.

Mr. Mustache pushed me along with vigor on the cobble-stone pathway. There were more guards surrounding the area, building a wall of bodies so there was no possibility for escape.

Great.

Awesome.

I smile at all of them, and give them a nod as I pass by. "Hello. Oh, thank you for coming. Nice to see you again! How ya doin'? I'm great, thank you. Been here long?" I say as I pass them, earning a hard glare from each and every one of them. One scowls. I raise my eyebrow.

"Glad you're doing well, John." I say. I don't really know his name. But he looks like a John.

When we've passed the wall of S.W.A.T. guards, me, Mr. Mustache, and Officer #1 and #2, pass through the huge metal doors of Seireitei which seemingly open of their own accord, opening outwards. A draft of ice cold ice sweeps over me.

And then I smile.

It's going to be a great day.

~.~.~.~

We go through boring procedure. Just a bunch of papers and documents that I don't feel like talking about. They took my finger prints. Scanned my eyes. I got a physical, and was prescribed medication for my sleep deprivation. I'm supposed to be mentally evaluated in the morning.

I am finally locked inside a cold, drafty, and padded room. There's actually a sunroof, which is quite nice. I look outside of it. Its pitch dark. I sit down for a while and think. I usually get into a hard thinking mode when I'm tired, to keep me awake.

So I don't sleep.

So I don't dream.

So I don't hurt.

It's a truly aggravating process which eventually makes me even more tired than before. So basically my hard-thinking strategy is kinda moot, anyway.

Oh well.

~.~.~.~

I don't sleep. I watch the sun break through the horizon, the sun seeps in through the sunroof. My heart almost skips a beat at the beauty of it.

Maybe this place isn't really so bad.

My day only gets better when a woman with a full head of auburn hair and the biggest boobs I've ever seen unlocks the metal door leading into my padded room. She's pushing a cart. There are two guards behind her, for her own safety.

"Good morning!" I smile at her, showing all my teeth. The woman with the mountainous breasts shivers slightly. If from the cold or my smile, I'm not quite sure. She recovers herself quickly though and gives me a half-hearted smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Kurosaki!" She pushes the cart farther in. She's completely inside my cell now. The guards behind her tense and raise their guns slightly. Directly pointed at my heart.

"Did you sleep well?" The woman asks without even thinking about it, trying to be polite as she arranges some of the items on her cart.

"I slept very well, thank you…" I cough slightly and pause as I look up towards the ceiling. I don't know her name.

"Rangiku-san."

"Thank you, Rangiku-san." I flash another full-toothed smile. She doesn't shiver this time.

Rangiku's face suddenly morphs into that of horrification. "Oh my! Have you been in that straight jacket all night?" She rushes over to me. The guards grunt nervously, their fingers lingering over the triggers of their semi-automatics. What is funny is that I know they can't shoot me. Not with Rangiku-san so close to me. They might shoot her on accident.

A personal human shield.

My luck has changed considerably.

A sudden thought comes to mind. I don't _really_ want to escape the Seireitei Asylum. Not now, anyway. I just want to cause some shit. Rebel. Make a couple dick moves. Ah, that sounds fun. My smile widens when I see the assistant security pass secured to Rangiku's skinny waist by coiled wire. My key to rebellion.

Literally.

"Why, yes, Rangiku-san," I say as I look up and gaze at her with puppy dog eyes. Her own eyes soften at the look. "I've been in it all night. My shoulders…" I moan dramatically. "They hurt _so_ bad."

I whimper a little, for theatrical effect. Rangiku looks horrified. She turns to the guards abruptly. "This is _not_ good for Mr. Kurosaki's health! He is a very young boy, you know! Only seventeen! I'm going to have to report this to Yamamoto-san." She shouts. The guards look embarrassed, and they lowers their guns slightly as Rangiku unbuckles me from the straight jacket.

I can't believe this worked.

I'm completely free.

Quick as I could, a grabbed at Rangiku's assistant pass, pulling it completely off the wire and breaking it. I put it down my jeans pocket. Then, I grab Rangiku by the waist –hearing her surprised scream—and push her into the guards at the door. They fumble, trying to catch Rangiku without accidently shooting her. I take advantage of their distraction and bolt out of the door, jumping over a pile of guards and Rangiku, a big puddle of surprised faces and legs.

Sorry, Rangiku-san.

I laugh full-heartedly as I sprint down the white hallway. I take the assistant pass out of my back pocket and hold it securely in my right hand as I run, knocking unknowing nurses and baffled doctors out of the way as I do so.

I turn wildly, just going wherever my feet take me. I open a random door, and go through it. I'm in a lobby.

Hahahahha!

The number of screams as I sprint past people are astounding. And loud. My the sleeves of my straight jacket flailing as I pump my arms, I run straight through the lobby. I knock a woman over, (sorry woman,) and she lands on a couch, her legs up in the air. Her shoes fly off. I jump over a stack of boxes most likely stocked with expensive medical supplies. Some topple and land on the ground with a hard thud. I hear some shattering glass of some sort.

Ha.

I knock a couple more people down before a burst through another hallway. I hear the patter of heavy footsteps behind me. Guards. Then a bell rings. An alarm? No, it sounds more like a school bell, sending blaring _tink-tong_ sounds into student's ears to inform them that lunch is over.

I use the assistant pass to open a huge set of white double doors and burst into the room. I look around it frantically, trying to find an exit so my fun will last longer.

There isn't one. I feel my eyes droop with a sudden defeat.

Then I notice everyone in the room is looking at me. It's a lunch room. There are lots of patients sitting around the room of rectangular tables. Just staring at me with surprise. Even the guards posted every few feet are flabbergasted. I shout a war cry with sudden anger, and jump on top of the nearest table. There is a one single girl sitting there. She's small, very small, but her eyes hold a deep understanding of the world and how it works. She can see right through me, I know it. I'm distracted by her beautiful violet orbs before composing myself.

I lift the assistant pass card in the air. One last hurrah.

I hear applause.

They're applauding me.

The guards around us suddenly grab their bearings, and move to attack me.

I smirk, and salute the pretty girl and wink at her. She blushes slightly, but doesn't say anything. Just smirks back. I jump off of the table with grace, landing on the balls of my feet for less impact damage, and look around one last time for an exit. I still hear applause.

Like I assumed, there isn't an exit.

The guards surround me.

I'm suddenly knocked down.

There's a sharp pain in my head.

The applause stops.

Breath leaves my lungs.

Breath doesn't come back.

All is silent.

I feel a shock run throughout my entire body.

Everything goes black for a few seconds.

At first, I'm afraid that I'll fall asleep.

And dream.

But I don't.

I wake up a few seconds later.

My feet are being dragged behind me.

I lift my head. I feel a warm liquid run down the side of my head. God, it's probably blood from the bash I took earlier. Ugh, it'll stain my hair. Goddammit.

I chuckle, and I raise my head higher. "Fuck you all." I say.

And I'm led through the big white double doors.

/

**A/N: Thank you all for your amazing reviews and favorites! You guys are awesome awesome awesome! I'll probably update Sacrament next. But, alas, I'm going to the Mall of America for my birthday. I'll be gone the whole weekend, so there isn't much time to write. Sorry. I rushed this chapter so you guys won't have to wait three more days. I hope you liked it!**

**And as always, please review review review!**

**-Liym Enello**


	3. Episode 3: The Box

THE IVORY TOWER

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Episode 3: The Box

/

The orange shock of hair leaves the room, and all is silent. After a few moments, patients start to mutter their condolences to the poor boy. The guards still remaining return to their posts, and shout-

"Get up! Breakfast is over!"

No one rises from their tables. My hands are held firmly on the smooth white plastic. The boy's actions had started a fire anew in the patients of Seireitei, something that has never been done or will be done again. Silence. The refusal to move but for one, measly second.

A rebellion.

The guards shout for us to move again and we timidly rise, one by one, awaiting our escorts to take as away.

~.~.~.~

The escorts are called in and they take us away to our respective places. The bright red-head Renji comes in to collect me. He moves as if to grab hold of my elbow to lead me, but thinks better of it when we make eye contact. My eyes are cold and unforgiving. Because these people hurt a strange, rebellious boy, and I wasn't about to follow him out like a giddy school girl.

I'm not going to speak. My vow of silence will not be broken. I just glare at Renji and shake my head slowly, meaning to say: _Don't even think about it._

"Alright, Ms. Kuchiki… Be that way." Renji Abarai makes a gesture with his hand for me to follow him, and I comply, taking slow but deliberate and angry steps without even realizing it.

I pass the blue-haired and sharp-toothed Grimmjow in the hall. He must be heading back to his comfy, padded cell after a counseling session with his therapist this morning.

"Hey, Kuchiki!" Grimmjow smiles, showing all his pearly white teeth to me. "I heard about what happened in the Eating Space. Were you there?" He raises an eyebrow questionably, a tongue sliding across his teeth.

I nod my head slightly. Yes. I was there. He jumped on my table.

"Fucking intense! Bet you pissed your pants."

I glare at him.

"Kuchiki, 'common! You know I'm kiddin'. You're the only girl here with a _real_ backbone. I like that." He laughs hysterically.

I raise my eyebrow. By then, Grimmjow's two escorts have pushed him along, out of my line of sight. We're almost to the door of my cell when I hear the red-headed Renji sigh.

"Grimmjow…Freaky bastard." He murmurs to himself.

I "accidently" pull my sneakered foot out and Renji trips on it. Not landing on his face, unfortunately, but he was thrown into the wall to the left of us. He curses loudly as he pushes of the wall, rubbing his sore and injured shoulder. The ends of my mouth curl ever so slightly, and a satisfied humph escapes from my throat. I'm glad that I always wear sneakers instead of slippers. Slippers wouldn't have made Renji trip as adequately.

"Go to your room." Renji glares at me angrily like an PMS-ing mother. I smirk as Renji unlocks my cell door with the assistant security pass held firmly in his hands. "Someone will come by when it's time for lunch." He practically shoves me through the door, his large hands skimming against the cloth of my back.

I shiver from being touched again. It was probably an accident, but Renji Abarai is still going to pay. Probably with a few lost teeth and a beat up jaw, with only a couple bruised knuckles on my part.

I grin cynically.

~.~.~.~

When it's time for lunch, a different escort arrives to take me. He's tall, with long white hair and dark black eyebrows. He wears a doctors' coat, and looks like he belongs in a lab more than out here escorting me. I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly. What the hell?

"Hello, Ms. Kuchiki." He pulls out a handkerchief from a pocket in his white coat and coughs violently. "I am Dr. Ukitake. Pleased to meet you." He places the handkerchief back into his pocket and holds out the same hand for me to shake.

I look at it incredulously, my eyes growing wide.

As if I want his germs.

After an awkward moment, Dr. Ukitake pulls his hand back to hang limply at his side. "Very well. On we go, then. You must be hungry."

I'm not. But what if the orange haired boy bursts into the Eating Space again? What I wouldn't give to see that. Maybe he'll even jump on my table again and solute me like a captain.

Wait… what? I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anyone…

Dr. Ukitake makes a gesture out of the door for me to follow him. He starts chatting animatedly.

"I am a doctor here, at Seireitei. I work with the medicine. An anesthesiologist. I control what amount of medicine almost each and every one of the patient's here are getting. It's a very tedious task." Dr. Ukitake sighs dramatically. "I like to help out the escorts and do my own escorting to regenerate my mind. Looking at countless numbers and equations on a screen is so tiresome, sometimes. Ah, but I love my job." His eyes glass over, a far-off look gracing his face. Nostalgia. "I get to know that my work is helping so many people here, and that someday they will leave this place and live a normal, happy life." His eyes return from there far off place to look at me.

I grunt in response. He smiles. Genuinely.

"You seem like a very nice girl, Ms. Kuchiki. Even if you are a terrorized and quiet soul. I hope you'll get better soon."

_I'm not sick. _I think to myself. _Just misplaced. Just used. Just… just…_

"Well… here we are Ms. Kuchiki." He swipes an assistant security pass over a black sensor set in the wall by the huge double doors leading into the Eating Space. "I hope you have a nice lunch."

I nod to him, because, well, he seems like a nice enough man to earn a response. He has made a lot of sick people better… or so he says. He deserves a little respect.

He waves goodbye to me before closing the door, on his merry way. I hear him cough once as he walks to down the hall. I smile, a little, on the inside. How can such a sick man make a living designing and studying medicine?

The answer is lost on me.

I'm in the cafeteria again. It's the same damn routine. Shit. I pick out my lunch –peanut butter and jelly with an apple juice box. I sit down at my usual table, alone.

Then, to my complete and utter surprise, experiencing the biggest moment of déjà vu in my life, the cafeteria doors are kicked open, practically breaking the white tile of the walls as they slam into them. My eyes quickly dart over to the intruder. Many guards march in. All of them seem to surround one single person. They are all clad in the usual white with their nightsticks and Tasers. But, a new addition to my eyes, they're all carrying guns. White semi-automatics held firmly in their capable hands, their fingers hovering over the triggers.

I shiver.

The patients in the room that were eating their food happily and innocently suddenly go silent.

I strain my neck, trying to see what person they are protecting… or protecting us from. Although, I have a good feeling of whom it is.

~.~.~.~

The guards separate, forming a half-circle around a strange orange haired boy instead of a box shape. He smiles lopsidedly when he looks at me. My eyelids wince ever so slightly. What is it about this boy that makes him so… different than the others? It is his lopsided smile? The way he carries himself as he walks around the lunchroom, guards following him, picking out his meal? Is it the way he winked at me when he sits down opposite me at my table? The way he scarfs down his food like it's his last?

I'll never know.

"'Sup shortie?" He says in between a mouthful of soup and toast.

I raise both my eyebrows at him. I'm not sure how to respond. I've never had a guest at my table before. Not in five years.

I just shake my head "no" to him, refusing to respond.

The patients around the room begin to chat again, but I know for certain they are either talking about me or this orange haired heathen sitting across from me. Or both.

"I can't believe he's back!"

"They let him do that?"

"I thought they'd throw him in The Box fer sure…"

"Dude, look, he's sitting with Kuchiki! I wanna tap that!"

My cheeks burn at the last comment I hear. The strange orange haired boy blushes, acknowledging the distasteful comment. He turns abruptly to the speaker of the last comment and gives him an icy glare. The patient freezes, food still in his mouth. The orange haired boy glares at him for several moments before tearing his gaze away, releasing him.

The patient slowly swallows his food, his head down, and continues to eat quickly.

I scoff, and roll my eyes. Tough guy.

"So, what's your name?" The bright haired boy says when he turns back around to face me. He picks up a spoon and starts digging in his strawberry yogurt.

I don't respond. I pick up my apple juice box, and struggle to get the stupid straw out of the small package. I curse myself for every moment that I chewed on my nails. They're not long enough or strong enough to rip the stupid little straw out of its damn plastic packaging.

The boy notices my trouble, and gently picks up the juice box when I slam it down on the table with frustration. He easily rips off part of the plastic and carefully slides the straw out of the packaging.

The guards surrounding our table tense. Could a plastic straw be used as a weapon to kill me? Was that his intention all along?

I almost get up and run from my table when the boy speaks.

"Here. Like this…" He glides the straw into the juice box, and slides it across the table. "Do you think you can handle the rest?" He says with a cocky smile.

I glare at him, but pick up the juice box nonetheless. The apple flavor seems to explode in my mouth. It tastes really, really good today for some reason.

"My name is Ichigo, by the way." He says, cocking his head to the side to examine me. "I jumped on your table earlier today. During breakfast."

I know. I was there. I silently sip on my juice. Staring at him.

When I don't respond, he keeps on talking. "The only reason I'm not in "The Box", or whatever they call it, and that I get to sit here with you is because…. Well…" Ichigo leans forward, across the table.

I hear some of the guards grunt and tense up as they cock their weapons upwards, getting a better angle at Ichigo's heart as he moves.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He says, his velvet voice is soft, and unexpectedly seductive.

My eyebrows furrow together. Secret? I lean in closer to him. His lips are so close that they almost touch my ear when he speaks. His hot breath rolls down my neck and tickles it.

"They're all scared of me." He pulls away and sits back with a cocky grin on his face.

What? How? He's just a teenage boy. No older than seventeen, most likely.

I open my mouth to say something but stop. I will not speak.

In my silence I notice the purple bags under Ichigo's ochre eyes. The shallow quickness of his breath. His eyes, rimmed with red. He looks absolutely exhausted.

I stare at him, squinting while I analyze him. The guards are scared of him? _Him?_ Of all people? He's just a tired, sick little boy.

Right?

"I don't expect you to want to have lunch with me. In all honesty, I wouldn't want to sit here and listen to me talk, neither." Ichigo says, the sides of his mouth curling up in a wry smile. "But, I like you. You're not like the other patients here. You're different."

I could say the same to you, Ichigo. I cock my head slightly to the side, questioning him.

"All I mean to say is that you're quiet. Reserved. I haven't heard you speak once, midget…"

I glare at him for that gibe. Ichigo holds his hands up, as if caught in a burglary, and the sudden movement makes the guards jumpy. I raise an eyebrow at the strange, orange-haired Ichigo.

"You're different. So I like you. I like you enough that if you want me to leave you alone… I will."

I think about it for a moment, looking down at the juice box he opened for me. I think about his bravery in the cafeteria earlier today. I glance up at him, and shake my head no. I want him to stay.

"Good." Ichigo stuffs one last piece of food into his mouth. "I would really love to stay but I have to go be mentally evaluated now." He rolls his eyes. "Since apparently I'm not alright 'up here'." He points to his head and shakes it around while getting up from his chair.

He asks me if I want him to stay and then he leaves? The situation is so idiotic that I giggle… just a little bit.

I pause, my mind going blank. When's the last time I've done that?

I try to remember the last time I've giggled while I watch Ichigo, who winks and gives me a salute just like earlier today, with his mass of guards surrounding his tall frame. He his lead out of the cafeteria and through the big white double doors, his mess of orange hair sealed shut by them.

I shake my head.

I haven't giggled in five years.

~.~.~.~

**A/N: I know, I know. I said I would update Sacrament next. But, in all honesty, I like this fic a LOT better than Sacrament. I'm sorry, but I'm thinking of scraping it. If you think differently, tell me in a review.**

**On a higher note, Ichiruki interaction has commenced! :D**

**Thank you to all who reviewed the last two chapters, it really means a lot to me. I didn't get to respond to you all, I'm sorry, I've been busy and I'll try to respond to all the new ones I hope I get. :D**

**Have a good one.**

**-Liym Enello**


	4. Episode 4: The Light

**A/N: New chapter whoooooop! But, before I write this, I have some news.**

**I've been getting a lot of messages and some reviews asking me to continue Sacrament. In all honesty, I don't think I can. The story lacks parallelism. And, (if I dare say it…) just plain bad writing. It would take me **_**way**_** too long to re-read the whole thing, get the plot together, and work it out. I didn't mean for Ichigo and Rukia to kiss so early in the story. It ruined the suspense and realism of the entire fic. I'm going to scrap Sacrament. BUT, before you pass out, I'm not scraping ALL of it, per se. I think I'm just going to keep the major plot points, scrap the rest, and then RE-WRITE it. Does that sound okay? It's either that or… no Sacrament at all.**

**That's all I have to say. Please tell me what you think of this in a review on either of my stories, or a personal message.**

**So! Let's see what InsaneIchi and DarkRuki are up to today…**

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 4: The Light

/

I stare at my therapist with a smile. He's not the standard therapist, with a crisp white shirt under a black sweater vest, striped white tie tucked underneath it, black dress pants, and shiny black boots. He wears cool retro glasses and has long, wavy brown hair. All in all, he looks like a pretty cool dude in his forties.

He told me to call him Dr. Zangetsu.

"So, Ichigo," Dr. Zangetsu steeples his fingers and squints at me, as if trying to get a better look at my face. He crosses his long legs, causing the material of the plush granny chair he's sitting in to creak and moan like a whore. "What's your favorite color?"

This throws me back, if only for a moment. My eyebrows furrow as I stare at my therapist.

"White." I say, watching the man with satisfaction as he smirks at my answer. "What's yours?"

"Black." There is a slightly mischievous glint in his eye as he writes something down on a notepad set on an end table beside him with a red pen. He sets the pen down, the color of it in stark contrast with the white paper. The white walls. The white floors. The white chairs of the room.

"Of course it is." I say, picking at an invisible spot of rust on my handcuffs. My ankles are cuffed too, secured to a notch in the floor by my feet. It seems as if Dr. Zangetsu and I are alone, but I know that behind the wall-to-wall mirror on my right are a dozen guards and a few doctors watching curiously. I'm not stupid. I've watched enough CSI to know how one-way windows work.

After my thorough examination of the mirror/window, Dr. Zangetsu clears his throat to get my attention. I roll my eyes over to him, exaggerating the movement. I expect him to say something, but he doesn't. He says nothing. Then why would he bother to get my attention?

So, I sigh, and speak for myself. "Why do you want to know what my favorite color is?" I have the urge to cross my arms, but the handcuffs make it difficult. I give up and just cross my fingers in my lap.

"One can learn much about a person by knowing their favorite color." Zangetsu replies evenly, as if this is the most casual conversation he's ever had. I don't know, maybe, by his standards, it is.

"Oh? And what have you found out about me?" I say, my words forming smoothly beneath my tongue. Dr. Zangetsu nonchalantly takes a sip of some kind of liquid out of a white teacup and sets it down on the end table by the red pen, and opens his mouth to speak.

"Your favorite color is white. It's an uncommon favorite color, which makes you different, but it matches your personality perfectly." He pauses.

"I'm listening." I rest the side of my face on my left hand, leaning into it in a casual posture. I instantly try to cross my legs, but the damned cuffs limit the simplest of movements. Fuck it all.

"As we all know, in Japan, white is the color of mourning. Fitting, for your stature. White also represents an emptiness, an emptiness that consumes you, all of you." He looks at me straight in the eyes for a long moment before I break away, finally feeling uncomfortable for the first time since I got here. I massage a dark, bruised circle under my eye from the guard's attack earlier this morning in the cafeteria with an index finger. I feel sweat perspiring on my forehead under Zangetsu's gaze. There's no way he can perceive this much.

"But white is also clean, and fresh. It is the color of absolute purity and youth. Your favorite color is that of two wholly different meanings. Death, and Purity."

"Alright Doc," I choke out, feeling a deep weight suddenly setting itself on my stomach and tightening my throat. For some reason, I don't want to listen to anything he has to say anymore. I don't want to listen to anyone. I just want to leave. Maybe sit by the small, raven-haired girl and talk to her. She's a good listener. "Let's skip all the motherfucking bullshit. What are you really trying to tell me?" God, he makes me mad, thinking he knows everything about me. His godforsaken mouth opens again, his voice a deep bass.

"I think you have two personalities, Ichigo. The light… and the dark."

I feel something snap in the core of my being.

"_Fuck you_!" I say, struggling against my chains. "You don't know anything about me! We hadn't even spoken until, what, five minutes ago? What kind of shit is running out your mouth? I could tear out your jaw with my bare hands. I'd watch the gore and blood drip off your teeth as I pull them out one by one and shove a needle through your tongue!"

"Ah, yes, _this_ is what I'm talking about Ichigo! This is what you are. I mean, what _both _of you are. The Ichigo I knew five minutes ago was talking to me politely and with respect. The new Ichigo I see before me is a pompous ass who doesn't know how to control himself."

"Shut the fuck up, Old Man!"

"Then find out who you are, Ichigo." Dr. Zangetsu swiftly rises from his chair and strides over to me until he's hovering right in front of my face, his vile brown eyes burning into my ochre ones. I want to spit at him, watch the saliva burn his eyes out like acid. But before I can, he speaks again.

"Find out _what_ you are."

I scream. It's a long, loud, profound scream that doesn't even sound human to my ears. It vibrates against the walls, causing a chill to run up even Zangetsu's spine, as I strain against my metal cuffs. I can feel the skin on my wrists and ankles break and bleed, swathing the hard metal in molten red like a sweet caress of a lover. My eyes glaze over, and I'm lost in a sea of emotion and pain. Both physical and emotional, as I feel two sides of myself fighting for dominance of my body. For a moment, the light inside me pierces through the dark, and my scream cuts off abruptly as I slump in my chair, exhausted. Zangetsu is suddenly on the opposite side of the room again, in his granny plush chair, one leg draped over a knee, a finger on his lips. He is contemplating.

"That's enough for today. Go clean yourself up, and have dinner with the Kuchiki girl."

~.~.~.~

At first, I'm confused as to whom the "Kuchiki girl" is, but then I realize it could only be one person. So the raven-haired midget's surname is Kuchiki? Well, at least know I know what her name is. Partially. If only she could talk, I would be able to get some kind of first name out of her. Ah, until then, I will be forever curious.

I think about the way her violet irises seem to swim in her sockets as two guards come in to uncuff me and hand me over to a nurse, who treats the wounds on my ankles and wrists. She's a small little thing, with big brown eyes and a cute little bun, but she's nothing compared to a certain badass Kuchiki girl I know.

I know there's a gun trailed on me, so I don't hiss too loudly when she applies some stinging anesthetic to my wounds. She wraps them in fresh white gauze and tapes them. Then she pats me on the shoulder with a small, sad, but understanding smile before the same two guards push me away down a hallway. They don't bother to re-cuff me. I'm glad they don't because it would hurt like hell, and I'm pretty sure it breaks some kind of law or something to hurt me, a minor, in a mental hospital -without cause, anyway. I'm pretty exhausted anyway, so I don't feel like causing much trouble.

I'm famished, though.

The two guards lead me through a labyrinth of hallways, their guns always trailed on me. I run a hand through my orange locks as one of them swipes a pass card to open the cafeteria doors.

I make my grand entrance, and the room goes silent before it slowly picks up its mindless chatter, as always, and I keep an eye out for the midget. As expected, she's sitting alone at her usual table, nibbling on an apple. There's an un-opened juice box beside her tray. I smirk, and give her a small wave, which she nods at in return, a deep frown cutting her face. That's weird.

I pick up a tray, which is white, of course. Yay, my favorite color.

The thought makes my eyebrows furrow, my brain suddenly flooded with images of Dr. Zangetsu, the light and the dark, the cuff. I furrow my brows further, and grab ridiculously large amounts of food to consume and pile it all onto my tray. I consider asking one of the guards to get another tray for me, but I think otherwise when I see a deep scowl on his face. I shrug my shoulders, and walk over to the small girl.

"How's it hangin', Kuchiki?" I ask as I sit down and immediately reach for the unopened juice box by her tray.

The girl's beautiful eyes widen enormously at the mention of her family name. I can almost hear her thoughts: _How does he know my name? Why does he want to sit by me? Why—_

But of course, she continues her theatric silence as I slide the straw into her juice box and place it back on her tray, as a peace offering. She eyes the box for a moment, then her violet orbs flick up toward mine before she grabs the juice box and sucks on the straw delicately, staring at me with a worried look in her eyes and a frown on her face.

"What the matter with you?" I say and start eating a pile of pasta. Something has to be eating Kuchiki. I've never seen her look so… forlorn? I don't know. But something's off.

Her frown deepens, and she slowly points a finger at my face. I raise my eyebrow.

"I'm not following, Kuchiki."

She shakes her head, and tentatively, as if reaching towards a wild animal, strokes a dark circle under my eye with an index finger.

Oh.

"I'm fine Kuchiki. Don't worry about it. These bastards didn't beat me up too bad." I point to few guards with their guns pointed at us with my thumb. "I think they're pussies, actually."

A few of the guards grunt but otherwise say nothing. I smirk, and turn back to Kuchiki, but she doesn't seem convinced. She's probably worried that I'll do something drastic, strangle somebody's neck maybe, which will make the guards take evasive action and beat me to a pulp.

I roll my eyes at her playfully and scoop up my pasta as best I can with a plastic spoon and take a bite.

"You know, as shitty as this place seems to be, they have awesome food."

Kuchiki roll her eyes back at me and takes another sip of her juice, a slight chuckle in her throat. The mood of our "conversation" has lightened up enough, though, and the tension-filled air seems to dissipate entirely.

I like the sound of her laugh, and I want to hear it again.

So I do the stupidest thing I'll probably ever do in my life.

I hook my both of my thumbs into my mouth, pulling upward, and use both index fingers to push the skin below my eyelids down. It causes my cheeks to poof up; my eyes look a little more deranged than usual, and my mouth to takes on a monster-like quality. All in all, I must look pretty ridiculous.

Kuchiki practically pukes up her juice as she laughs full-heartedly. The juice dribbles out of her mouth as she's rocked with laughing spasms. It's the loudest I've ever heard her laugh. I smile, and release the hold on my eyes and mouth, my face looking less like a monster and more like Ichigo.

Then her laugher it cut short. I look up to find her staring at my wrists, covered with bandages.

She must have just noticed them.

"It's not a big deal Kuchiki—"

She shakes her head no.

"It was my fault, I—I hurt myself." I cringe at the thought of Dr. Zangetsu's therapy session just an hour before.

She still doesn't seem convinced, her eyes look worried again. I sigh, and lean my head in a hand. "It's really not a big—"

I'm cut off by the sound of a bell, much like the tolling of a school bell, signaling that lunch time is over. I hear the guards assemble their weapons, ready to escort me out. One of them grabs my elbow and I fight the urge to growl at him, not wanting to cause Kuchiki any upset.

A big red-headed, douchey looking assistant marches in at the toll of the bell. I glance at his name tag out of curiosity. Renji Abarai. He walks straight over to Kuchiki, who is still sitting down, staring at me.

"Time to go, Ms. Kuchiki." Renji says, tapping his foot impatiently.

I give Kuchiki a salute, bringing my index and middle finger to my head, then spacing my two fingers out into a peace sign before my arm falls down at my side, I'm about to turn away when Renji grabs Kuchiki's arm.

She gasps, and tries to get Renji's hand off of her.

"Come on, Rukia, enough of your bullshit! Let's go!" Renji's strong hands grip both of Rukia's arms from behind. At first, I'm disarmed and dazed-I finally know her name- but I quickly snap back to reality when he practically shoves Rukia to get her out the door.

"_What the fuck are you doing_?" I scream at him, fighting against my guard's restraining hands. Rukia's kicking at Renji frantically, obviously delirious at the feeling of Renji's hands on her. Quiet, little Rukia, trying with all her might to get the big burly man off her. Helpless.

"Stop!" I yell, and twist free of my guards confining fingers. It was stupid of them not to cuff me again. I race over to Renji. His back is turned to me. Perfect. Before I even realize what I'm doing I pounce on him, my arms around his neck. He lets go of Rukia in surprise, and she falls forward. Suddenly I'm afraid that she's going to hit her head on the white tile, but she reaches both hands out and catches herself. She whirls around frantically and stares wide-eyed at Renji clawing at me on his back.

"Bastard!" I scream, and maneuver my hands so they're in the perfect position to snap his sorry neck.

I hear the guards activate their tazers. I can almost feel the electric charge shifting the atmosphere in the room. The other patients in the cafeteria are screaming their heads off, and spurting outcries of defiance.

"Not again…"

"Twice in one day?"

"He's just a kid!"

I don't care. I'm about to jerk my arms to solidify Renji's demise when the first tazer makes contact with my spine. I jerk, and fall down onto the pure white tile.

Rukia's screaming, obviously worried for my safety. I want to sit up, give her a reassuring smile, but I can't move. They keep tazing me over and over, my body flopping around like a fish out of water. I find it hard to breathe, taking shallow breaths when I can.

A shift kick to my gut, and I'm hunched over. The tazers have stopped but the blows haven't.

I'm defenseless, but they keep beating me.

"You're going to kill him!" A patient shouts. It's a very high pitched squeal, one I've never heard before, coming from somewhere close. Everything stops. Why? I look through the tangle of legs surrounding me, and my eyes widen at the sight of Rukia's mouth moving up and down.

Rukia has spoken.

The patients of the room stop shouting to stare at their fellow patient in amazement. Rukia is being held back by Renji, who has recovered from my attack. He grabs Rukia's forearm with one hand, rubbing his bull-like neck in the other.

"Time to go, Princess." He starts dragging her away, even when she starts screaming again. Tears flood her eyes. I've never seen her so vulnerable, so full of emotion.

"But they're going to kill him!"

A final blow to my nose, a grunt of pain to escapes me, I'm lifted up by my arms again, and dragged across the room.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" Rukia says, clawing at Renji with her nails. The last thing I hear before I'm led out the door the sound of Rukia's voice.

"_Ichigo_!"

/

**A/N: uhh…. *O* …. Intense chapter. But I had fun writing it. Tell me what you think in a review! Sorry for any mistakes, I don't have time to re-read/edit this. Soooooo this was written in only Ichigo's point of view. I'm debating whether or not to write this scene from Rukia's POV in the next chapter because it's such a monumental moment. As always, tell me what you think in a review.**

**Have a good one.**

**-Liym Enello**


	5. Episode 5: The Lyrics

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 5: The Lyrics

/

My therapist has always been a dumbass. Her hair is long and pure white, like snow. She has piercing blue irises, ones that have gotten under my skin (well, only a little bit,) for the past five years. She doesn't wear any makeup, except a light lavender lipstick. Her eyebrows are elegantly arched, and feminine. Her white sun dress gets slightly ruffled when she sits down on a love seat across from wear me. She smoothes out the wrinkles in her dress while she slips out of her baby-blue high heels, and tucks her ankles under her lap. On the outside, she seems like a sweet, kind lady, one that belongs on a cheesy family sitcom.

And she is. Sweet. Kind. A lady. God, I despise her.

_Sode no Shirayuki…_

"Hello, Ms. Kuchiki!" She chirps, her lips forming a smile. She picks up her clipboard and a light blue pen. She clicks it, armed and ready for action.

She's not getting any. I sit in my chair, about seven feet across from her (and still not enough distance,) and scowl. I know there is one guard burning a hole in my head with his eyes through the one-way window. It means she trusts me enough not to handcuff me, but I still don't like her. At all.

She's so…. _peppy_.

"Are you going to talk at all, today?" Sode no Shirayuki asks, and takes a delicate sip of tea that has just been given to her by an assistant. What therapist needs an assistant? The question bounces around in my head repeatedly while I watch the steam whirl out of the white teacup and escape into the atmosphere. I wish I could do that. Dwindle away into nothing, like the steam, like the air.

"I really do wish you would speak with me, someday, Ms. Kuchiki." Sode no Shirayuki sighed dramatically, but her face quickly lit up animatedly when a new thought invaded her conscious. "How long has it been?" She taps her chin with a manicured finger. "Oh gosh… five years! Has it really been five years already, Ms. Kuchiki? And not a peep out of you!"

I just narrow my eyes at her. She sighs, disappointed.

"Well, if it is of any concern to you," Sode no Shirayuki said, "because of your prolonged silence, I have been able to understand your body language very well over the years. And, by the looks of it, you're feeling… _better_ today, yes?"

I raise an eyebrow at her, and cross my arms. When I think about it, I have felt better today than I have in a long time. But what was so special about today? I'm thinking about it for a long moment when my brain finally gets up off its ass.

_It's that strawberry kid, brainless. _My subconscious rolls her eyes at me. _He makes you feel better about… well, about your "situation"._

Humph. Yah, right.

_No, no. Seriously. _My subconscious sneers. _Just think about—_

"I can tell by your facial expression that I'm correct." Sode smirks, proud of herself. "Is it because of the boy from this morning?"

I feel my mouth pop open involuntarily. How… how could she know about that?

"Honestly, Rukia, who doesn't know about that berry kid? He made quite the splash this morning. And he returned for lunch, too? He sat by you."

My mouth drops even more. She can read my fucking mind. She's a mind reader.

"You must have made an impression on him if he sat by you. Must have been your girlish charms!" Sode no Shirayuki claps her hands together. "Oh, I'm so excited! You're making friends!"

_No. I'm not. I'm making an ally. I'll need one if I want to get out of here._

That thought causes me to pause. Get out of here. In all honesty I haven't actually thought of an escape plan. I've longed to be free of these white bleached walls, longed to get out of here, but I've never actually created a _plan_.

Could I do it? Escape? If I really tried?

Could I do it if I had Kurosaki's help? He's got the muscle, and I guess I've got some brains. Together, we might be free.

My mechanics in my mind are rolling, and I'm zoning out. Sode no Shirayuki has to snap her fingers to bring my attention back to reality.

"Ms. Kuchiki, I suggest you at least try to communicate with Ichigo Kurosaki. From what I've learned today, he's better than any medicine we've given you." She scribbles something down on her notepad and then sets her pen down. "We're done for today. You may leave, Ms. Kuchiki."

I nod, and rise from my chair. I open the door to reveal my escort. It's Dr. Ukitake again.

"Have a nice dinner, Rukia!" Sode no Shirayuki cries out and waves at me before a shut the door in her face.

~.~.~.~

Dr. Ukitake talks enthusiastically, as per usual. I generally ignore him, only picking up a few tidbits of information here or there. His new dog has been giving him the sniffles. No surprise. He's working on a new medicine for multiple personality disorders. Awesome. He's really wants to vacation in the Hawaiian Island in America. Fantastic. I nod and grunt in response occasionally, hoping he won't notice I'm ignoring him and think me rude.

When we finally reach the Eating Space, I'm relieved. He's like the ultimate chatter box. He swipes a security pass against the sensor and the door opens with a beep.

"In you go, Ms. Kuchiki! I'm so glad I could escort you. My office has been feeling so drab lately – I wonder if a vase full of flowers would brighten up the room. What about day lilies? I think they're—"

The door closes, cutting off his speech. Thank God.

I enter the cafeteria, and a nervousness settles in my stomach, turning it into knots. What if Ichigo sits by me again? How can I communicate with him? How can I tell him that I want his help escaping this place if I can't even open my mouth?

I breath in deeply, sterilized air rapes my lungs. I pick up a tray, even though I don't really need one since I only grab an apple and a juice box. I'm just sitting down at my usual table, nibbling on the apple, when berry-head waltzes in, guards surrounding him.

An audible gasp escapes my throat. His face. His perfect skin has been marred by the guard's beatings. It wasn't as prominent at lunch as it is now. The bruises on his face have darkened, as have the circles under his eyes. A few prominent cuts disfigure his smooth lips.

I'm suddenly seeing red. How _dare_ the guards do that to such a young, perfect face? How dare they mar him? Scar him? Beat him like trash? I could kill them all.

Ichigo smirks and gives me a slight wave, which I frown at in return, unable to shake my horrible mood. I watch as Ichigo walks across the room and piles a tray with an unimaginable amount of food. When his tray is practically buckling under the weight of the all his food, he makes his way over to me and sits down.

"How's it hangin', Kuchiki?" he asks with a smile on his cut, pink lips. He reaches for my unopened juice box, fiddling with the straw. I almost blanch. How does he know my name? I've obviously never spoken to him.

…has he been talking about me?

He slides the straw into the juice box and places it back on my tray. I eye the juice box, still trying to recover the shock of him saying my family name. I hesitantly take the juice box and bring it to my lips, sucking on it lightly. My eyes flick up towards him and away. It hurts to look at his face, with all it's bruises and pain.

"What's the matter with you?"

I cringe. I look up at him and point a finger at his face.

He raises an eyebrow at me questioningly, and then bite into a slice of pepperoni pizza. "I'm not following, Kuchiki." He says in between bites.

Oh God, what an idiot. How am I going to tell him that I don't like seeing his face looking like road kill? I think for a brief moment, and then carefully reach forward and slide my index finger under his eye, highlighting the dark bruises under them.

A look of reconciliation crosses his features. "I'm fine Kuchiki. Don't worry about it. These bastards didn't beat me up too bad." He points to a few guards with their guns pointed at us with his thumb. "I think they're pussies, actually."

The guards scowl and grunt, obviously not liking being called pussies. Bastards.

He finishes his pizza slice and then digs into a heap of pasta. "You know, as shitty as this place seems to be, they have awesome food."

Okay that's kind of funny. I chuckle and take another sip of juice. The mood is lighter, I feel like a can breathe again. He has that kind of effect on me, makes me feel almost happy in a blink of an eye.

And then he does something so stupid I can't help but stare at him. He hooks his thumbs into his mouth, and uses two fingers to pull down his eyelids, giving his face a grotesque mask. It probably hurts his is face to do that, but the image is so hilarious I almost puke my juice up all over his food with my laughing spasms.

I'm _laughing_?

Sode no Shirayuki… I think you were right.

Ichigo is a good medicine. He smiles, his eyes twinkling. For a brief moment I wonder how on earth he got into a godforsaken place like this…

My happy thoughts are short-lived when I notice the bandages encasing his wrists. Those weren't there this morning. Or at lunch. My laughter is cut short as I stare at them. Anger. Sadness. Fear. All these almost-forgotten emotions surge through my body.

"It's not a big deal Kuchiki—" He speak up abruptly, trying to cover up his wrists by sliding them under the table. He squirms uncomfortably.

I shake my head no at him. No. It's not okay. You're hurt and that's not okay.

"It was my fault, I—I hurt myself." Ichigo says, shame smothering his features. I look up at him with wide violet eyes. Is he suicidal? Did he cut his wrists on purpose? How did get hold of something that sharp… WHY would he cut himself? My face must have been teetering on mortification because Ichigo spoke up quickly. "It's really not a big—"

All words are drowned out by the bell.

One of Ichigo's guards grabs him by the elbow, forcing him to his feet. He's probably mad about the "pussy" comment.

I'm still staring at Ichigo, who's staring back at me, when I hear Renji behind me.

"Time to go, Ms. Kuchiki." He's tapping his foot impatiently and the sound almost drives me insane. Well, more insane than I already am. Ichigo gives me a salute, his fingers forming a peace sign before his long arm falls down to his side.

And that's when he grabs me. Renji's hand. On me. My skin. Contact.

I gasp, and claw at his hand. Get off. Off. Get off. OFF. OFF. GET OFF.

"Come on, Rukia, enough of your bullshit! Let's go!" Renji's strong hands grip both of arms from behind. I resist the urge to scream. I claw at his hand some more, but Renji doesn't even flinch. Get off me right now.

I'll kill you.

Don't made me kill you.

I lose it when he pushes me.

Then I hear some kind of scuffle behind me, bodies smashing against bodies.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hear Ichigo scream. I hear a struggle. I try to turn around but Renji keeps a tight hold on me. Get off. Off. Leave me alone. Stop touching me. My legs kick at Renji frantically.

"Stop!" I hear Ichigo yell, his voice is hoarse. I hear many guards gasp, I think I hear Ichigo tugging free of his guards. There's a huge force knocking me forward now. My instincts tell me to scream. So I do. But my instincts also tell me to throw out my hands, so I do that too, and I'm able to catch myself before my head collides with the cold white tile. I hear a giant thud, and whirl around. My eyes widen impossibly wide at the sight of Ichigo mounting Renji like a rabid monkey.

"Bastard!" Ichigo screams, and I hear the guards activate their tazers. Oh God. Oh no. Please no. Not again. He'll die. He'll be killed for sure. Another scream bubbles up inside me, but I'm drowned out by the other screams of patients in the room.

"Not again…"

"Twice in one day?"

"He's just a kid!"

Ichigo wraps his arms around Renji's bull-like neck, ready to snap it like a twig.I'm about to shut my eyes, to block the pain of watching Ichigo be pummeled to death, when the first tazer comes into contact with Ichigo's spine. And then I can't possibly peel my eyes away.

I thought one taze would be enough. It's not.

They keep tazing him.

Over.

And

Over.

And

Over.

Oh God, he's going to die. They punch him. They beat him, and I want to tear my hair out. Why am I suddenly so defenseless? What is it about this sight that makes me hunch over in pain?

I can't take it. His pain, my pain.

They are the same.

So stop the guards the only way I can.

I speak.

"You're going to kill him!" I shout. My voice cracks several times. It's high, filled with fear, and almost unknown even to my ears.

The patients in the room stop shouting to stare at me, their mouth hanging open, their eyebrows raised unnaturally high. Quickly, Renji grabs my arm.

Oh God, not again. Don't touch me.

Please.

"Time to go, Princess." He starts dragging me away from Ichigo, and I start screaming again. Tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill over. He can't take me away from Ichigo. He needs me.

"But they're going to kill him!" I beg.

A guard gives Ichigo a particularly hard and painful looking kick in the nose. His face. Oh God…

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" I scream, and claw at Renji.

I need to help him. Save him.

Take him away and keep him safe.

"Ichigo!"

~.~.~.~

They tell me that he's in solitary confinement, and that I'll never speak to him again. They tell me I need to stay in my room for a few days, to recover from the past events. They tell me Sode no Shirayuki will see me in a few hours. They tell me that doctors will come and assess my mental and physical health in a few minutes. They also tell me that Renji Abarai has been relieved of his escort duties, because of brash and inexcusable behavior towards me given my "delicate condition".

Well, at least there's some good news.

I lay down in my bed, tears streaming down my eyes as I imagine their blows and kicks to his young, breakable body. And I hate them so much. The guards. The escorts. The doctors. The therapists.

Everyone.

If Ichigo can't escape this place, then I won't. If we don't escape together, then we don't at all. I couldn't bear the guilt of leaving him alone, at their mercy. Or should I say _lack_ of mercy.

For God's sake, he's seventeen.

Seventeen…

~.~.~.~

**A/N: Thank you for reading! I'm so happy whenever I get a review from you guys so please review! Even if it's a hateful comment, I don't care. I like the criticism, so feel free to say whatever you'd like.**

**I'm sorry that it's been like, 3 weeks since I've updated. To be honest I haven't had any time to write. It's 1:05 a.m. right now. I've been writing for like 3 hours straight because I wanted to get SOMETHING out for you guys to read. Sorry for any mistakes.**

**Oh, and please review review review!**

**Until next time,**

**-Liym Enello**


	6. Episode 6: The Box II

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 6: The Box II

/

I laid in bed for hours after Sode no Shirayuki left. They didn't even bother to tie my wrists for the night in the standard leather straps. I didn't need them. Not tonight.

**3 HOURS EARLIER** -

"Rukia!" Sode no Shirayuki, with the beep of the automated door, burst into my cell with fervor. She was armed to the teeth, with her baby blue pen, clipboard, recording device, and even a small camera. She acted as if I was a baby just learning to walk, Sode was the caring mother, documenting every moment of the miracle.

I just sigh, unperturbed.

"You've spoken!" She babbles wholeheartedly, sitting herself down in a random chair across from my cot, where I'm sitting upright, my back against the white brick wall. A steady stream of light was pouring through the sunroof –it was not yet seven o'clock—the clouds have disintegrated from Seiretei, if only for a moment. "I'm so excited!" Sode clicked her baby blue pen against the white brick wall, ready for action; the tip of the pen grazed the paper, slightly shaking, barely able to face the wrath of Sode's enthusiasm.

Poor pen.

"So!" says Sode, "We finally have something to talk about."

I stare at her. She expects me to talk to her after what they just did to Ichigo?

As if I could even find my voice.

She waits patiently, setting up the camera, zooming in, training it on my nonchalant expression. She sets the voice recorder up at the foot of my bed, pressing a big green button and making a light flash red for "record".

I continue to stare.

"You know," states Sode, "we're not going to make any progress if you keep this up." she taps her pen on her notebook repeatedly, like some kind of frenzied dance.

Good God, that's annoying.

"If you have any hope of getting out of Seiretei in the next decade, I suggest you open your mouth." This is the first time I've ever heard Sode no Shirayuki use a firm tone with me. To humor her, I shrug, and open my mouth. I say nothing, just open my mouth.

She furrows her brows slightly. "This isn't a game, Rukia!" She exclaims. "I want you to get better, that's my job. Do you want me to suck at my job? Is that what you want?"

I open my mouth wider.

"Ugh!" Sode taps the big green button on the tape recorder, successfully turning it off, and crosses her arms, pissed as hell. I smile a little, and close my mouth with an audible _snap_. "You're… impossible! It's like five years of work has gone down the drain! That hurts, Rukia."

I raise my eyebrow at her. You know what else hurts?

Being punched in the face and tazered until you can't move. That hurts.

"I mean, you'll talk for Kurosaki, but you won't talk for me." Sode no Shirayuki says, slumping in her chair. She sets her pen and notepad on my bed beside the tape recorder, seemingly exhausted by her emotional outburst.

Then her face lights up, a renewed twinkle in her eyes and a smile threatening to mingle with her lips. She sits straight, her back like an arrow. "You'll talk for Kurosaki…." She gets up from the chair, and collects her notepad, pen, and recorder. She turns the camera off, and throws it in with her other objects. "I just got an idea."

She paces the room, balancing the paraphernalia in her arms, contemplating. "I… I have to go, Rukia. I have to talk to Yamamoto about… uh, about something. We'll talk tomorrow!"

She opens my cell door with her security pass, then, with her head turning to look over her shoulder, she speaks with a small smile.

"I hope."

**THE PRESENT** -

Once Sode left, I was left to my own devices. I wasn't about to contemplate what had happened three hours ago. I wasn't going to worry about what her "idea" was. Flashes of Ichigo's blood splattering the white tile of the café kept creeping up behind my closed eyelids. I slowly laid down, curling up into a ball, and refused to cry for about ten minutes before those stubborn droplets of water finally spilled over. No noise was made, just a steady stream falling from my cheeks and a tight feeling balling up in my throat.

I couldn't believe I was crying. For him.

After a few minutes, when I regained my senses, I just mopped it up to be all the pent-up emotions of a five year silence. I wasn't crying for Kurosaki. No, I was finally crying for myself. That's all.

The sun leisurely ran its course, the warmth slowly fading from the sunroof. My fingers grew numb from being clenched under my pillow tightly, my toes frozen from the cold. I kicked them under the covers, pulling them up over my shivering body, and rocked myself to sleep.

The darkness was what I welcomed.

~.~.~.~

The early morning was bright. No kidding. The ultra-megapower white lights were practically burning a hole through my corneas. Bastards.

It was weird to think that brightness wasn't the sun. You think after all these years I would be used to it, but I'm not. At first I don't move, used to having somebody come in to untie the restraints on my wrists and ankles, but then I remember they're not tied at all. I swing my legs over the bed, my head slightly dizzy with the rushing bloody. I hop off the bed and put on my socks and sneakers that I'd kicked off something during the night. I waited.

Wasn't somebody going to come in to collect me? Where's Ukitake?

I frown, the expression seeming to mold to my face on its own accord. I walk over to my cell door, and reach out to jiggle the handle.

Locked. I can't believe I even tried. But hey, it's worth a shot.

I sit back down on the bed with a huff, hunched over, defeated.

There's a clock ticking on the far wall.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clouds pass by the sun roof, creating shadows that seem to writhe and wither all on their own.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Click.

Clack?

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Shoes? High heeled shoes? I perk up, raising my eyebrows. Who is it? Where am I going?

_It could just be a passerby. _My subconscious rolls her eyes at my naïveté. _It's probably just—_

My door beeps. It beeps! Take that, conscious! It swings open, to reveal an…. exceptionally eager Sode no Shirayuki, toting something very large behind her.

Well that's just peachy. I groan, and return to my bed, hiding with the covers pulled up over my head.

Go away.

"Rukia! Big news!" Sode says animatedly. There's some annoying squeaking noise following her, like the sound of wheels against tile.

Whyyy.

"Oh common, Rukia! Don't be like that!" I can almost imagine Sode putting her hands on her hips and cocking them to the side. "I have a surprise for you!"

Go awayyyyy.

"It involves Ichigo!"

Well, that's a first. I pull down the covers ever so slightly, peeping over them like a frightened little mouse. No, scratch that, an annoyed little mouse.

She's brought me a television. Ugh, what does she expect me to do, watch cartoons all day in my pajamas like a stereotypical loon? Please. I pull the covers back over my head, sighing roughly.

"Oh no you don't—" Sode rips the covers off of my cot entirely and flings them on the floor. "It took me five hours to bribe Yamamoto to let me do this…"

_But what does a television have to do with Ichigo?_ I almost ask, but hold my tongue. No talking.

"Rukia," Sode smirks, hands on her hips, her head cocked towards my sprawled form on the bed. "I realized Ichigo is the only person in this asylum that will get you to talk. So get up off your butt and let me show you your surprise."

I groan, and heave my legs over the cot once more and stare at the blank television. Sode smiles, finally triumphant, and turns on the T.V.

I was expecting a cheesy Hallmark movie, a comedy skit, or maybe even an anime show. But not this.

Ichigo's bruised, bandaged, and down-right exhausted face was staring back at me through the screen.

Holy hell.

~.~.~.~

"Hey, Midget." Ichigo says without smiling, smirking, or doing any of his usual things. He's in a strait jacket, hands secured behind his back. He's in a dark room, only his face and upper body are illuminated by what I'm guessing is a television set just like mine.

My face must look ridiculous because Sode no Shirayuki laughs lightly, a high pitched, bell-like sound, and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Good surprise?" She whispers in my ear, and giggles again. She pats my shoulder, and walks away. "I'm going to leave you two in private. But, I want you to know that this conversation is being recorded. So please, no swearing, bad-mouthing, or rudeness, 'kay?" She smiles, dimples revealing themselves on her ivory cheeks.

Ugh, she reeks with pride. I watch her leave, shutting my cell door firmly behind her. I slowly train my eyes back to the television screen.

"Cat got your tongue?" Ichigo says after a moment of silence, the smallest of smiles gracing his pink lips.

Yes. The cat most certainly does have my tongue because they told me I wouldn't see you, much less speak to you, ever again.

"Guess where I am?" Ichigo says, training his head this way and that, to accentuate his surroundings. He gives me a moment to respond, but when my vocal cords fail me, he speaks up. "The Box! I'm in The Box, can you imagine that! Wish you were here, am I right?"

He laughs. It isn't innocent, or pure, like most laughs are. It's labored, and somewhat drowning in his own insanity. A shiver runs up my spine and I look away from the television set for the smallest of moments before Ichigo's laugh cuts off abruptly and my eyes snap back to the screen.

"Are you afraid?" He asks suddenly, but with zeal, as if we've been on the subject for a while. He raises his auburn eyebrows at me, his eyes full of questions, and answers.

No. I'm not. Just a little shocked.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks again, his eyes displaying a deep sadness that I couldn't ever produce with my own eyes. I part of me crumbles, and I shake my head "no" at him. I am not afraid of this boy. This poor little boy who has been beaten twice in the past 24 hours and is not in his right mind.

Well, neither am I, but that's beside the point.

"Sometimes I forget why I never sleep." Ichigo says, talking more to the darkness surrounding him than to me. "But then if I close my eyes for a really long time, I remember…" He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Would you like to know why?"

I shake my head yes. I'll do anything to know what's going on in your skull.

"Young. Healthy. Now dead. Blood. White. Screams. The King." Ichigo mumbles. He cracks his neck swiftly to the left, startling me. Then his head slowly toward me, his eyes, God, his eyes that were a warm russet have transformed into a haunting hazel hue. He laughs, once, quickly. "That's why."

I open my mouth, struggling to find the right thing to say. He's insane, mentally, surely, but I can talk to him, right? I helped save him from the guards yesterday with my voice… can I save him now? Something sounding much like a croak escapes my lips before I shut them again, a hand over my mouth. I can't talk, I just can't…

_Do it,_ My subconscious whispers to me, urging me on. _For him. You are his medicine as much as he is yours._

I clear my throat and open my mouth… words tumble out of them before I even realize what I'm saying. "You talk to yourself a lot, you know that?"

The sound of my voice seems to bring Ichigo out of his stupor.

He smiles so fully, naturally, wholeheartedly, that my breath is short and I find myself inching closer to the television set.

"Yo, Rukia." Ichigo says, his tired, bloodshot eyes filled with an emotion I can't put a name to.

"Hey, Ichigo." My voice is slightly gruff from disuse. Ichigo doesn't seem to notice. "How are you feeling, fool?"

"I've had better days," Ichigo said, shrugging off his condition as if it was nothing. "But it's nothing I can't handle."

"Did a nurse get a look at you? Make sure you're okay?" I ask.

"Yah, yah. The nurse just said it'll take time to heal -and that I shouldn't get myself in more trouble or I'll have to buy another face." He says, rolling his eyes and scoffing sarcastically.

"Is that really what they said?" I inquire, leaning forward more, my butt sliding off the bed a little. "Did they really suggest that you get a new face or are you bullshitting me?"

"Well, it was along those lines, anyway." He says, and shrugs his shoulders. He's so casual about the whole thing. I wish I could just push my arms through the screen, grab him by the collar, and shake him a little, screaming at him that he has more than one reason to be angry with the people that put him in Seiretei. But I don't, because that's physically impossible.

So I just sit there, and cross my arms, and stare dumbly at the monitor. Smoldering. You think that with five years of silence, you would have a lot to say. I don't.

"What, are you mad at me?" asks Ichigo, his tone laced with disbelief. "There's not one good reason for you to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad!" I shout, my voice breaking twice. "You're just so nonchalant about your…" I pause, at a loss for words -again- and then finally decide to wave a hand at the screen, "your whole _deal_, and it seems like I'm the only one sitting here being angry about it!"

"Whew, kitty's got claws!" Ichigo chuckles, shaking his head.

"Yah well I've been in here long enough to grow them." I spit back, glaring at him through the screen.

There is a long silence after that. So long, in fact, that Ichigo is probably starting to get uncomfortable. I have the upper hand though. I'm used to the quiet. It doesn't bother me as much as him.

"How long have you been here?" Ichigo asks seriously, his arm fidgeting in his strait jacket. God, that must suck, unable to move your arms, trapped in your own body. All day. Ugh, don't get off track, back to the question!

"Five years, four months, and three days." I say. It's a reflex reaction. Ichigo whistles, and shakes his head. I squirm in my seat.

We're getting into rough, personal territory.

"And I thought these past two days have been bad. Damn, Kuchiki," He cocks his head to the side. "…what exactly did you do?"

Before I know it I've picked up the television and smashed it against the wall.

It shatters, sufficiently killing it.

That's enough talk for now.

/

**A/N: WHOOOOOPPPPPPPP. Yup. I'm updating this bitch already. I felt bad for not updating it earlier with the last episode so, with a sudden burst of inspiration, I sat down on my ass, listened to the POTC 3 soundtrack, and wrote this motherfucker like a boss. I hope you liked it. :3**

**Oh, and remember reviews are like television… one's that aren't broken, anyway…**

**I LOVE THEM.**

**-Liym Enello**


	7. Episode 7: The Adjudged

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 7: The Adjudged

/

"The defendant calls for a recess!" Cries the Judge from his post, bringing all the attention to him. "We will resume Kuchiki Rukia's trial in three hours."

The mallet claps against the block of expensive, polished wood. The sound mimics Rukia's doom against the gleaming walls, echoing her fate. "Court adjourned!"

Rukia sits in her upholstered chair, unmoving. Well, slightly shaking. Her hands grip the polished wooden armrests until her finger tips and knuckles burn white under the pressure. Her eyes are downcast.

"Hey," a warm hand suddenly rests on her forearm. Rukia reacts to the touch, cringing away from the feeling. The hand slips off her arm. She hears a sigh escape from the man's mouth.

"It's going to be alright, Rukia." The voice doesn't sound as convincing as it should. "They don't have enough evidence against you."

"Yes they do." Rukia speaks for the first time in an hour. During court, she basically just sat there while the opposing side derided her and persecuted her. Rukia's eyes flick to the man's face quickly, up and away. "They have an eye witness. Oh, and I'm legally insane. That helps my case a _lot._"

"But that doesn't mean-"

"Yes it _does_, Aizen!" Rukia shouts at the man with curly hair, rectangular glasses, and a sharp lawyer's suit. "If the hospital can prove I'm insane then so can the court! You're a lawyer. You know this."

"Rukia…"

"I'm going to prison, aren't I?"

"Rukia, no…"

"Just admit it. Then I can accept it and I won't have to worry about it later."

"No, Rukia." The man whispers. He pauses, thinking through his words carefully. With a long sigh, he looked into Rukia's eyes and spoke. "You will most likely be sent to an asylum, under strict supervision."

Rukia turns roughly away from him, partially in shock, partially in scorn, her handcuffs clinking together. She furrows her eyebrows and stares off into space, completely ignoring her "trusted lawyer". In all honesty, Rukia hadn't wanted Aizen to represent her in this case, not at all. In fact, in her parent's will, it stated that he would be her legal guardian if Kaien Shiba, her godfather, died.

Aizen was, apparently, an old family friend. And conveniently a lawyer.

So, of course, Rukia had no choice. Her parents left her a very large fortune after their death, but it would only be legally hers once she was eighteen. The money would be taken under the care of her legal guardian until she turned of age. Her legal guardian now being Aizen, he had control of her money.

The catch was, he could only spend the money on food, clothes, and housing for Rukia.

This pissed Aizen off. He wanted that money, needed that money for his own selfish purposes, and Rukia was getting in the way. Aizen recollects himself, putting on a concerned façade and spoke to the raven haired sixteen-year-old.

"I know this may seem hard now, but I promise you, I will do everything in power to make sure that doesn't happen. Now—" Aizen rises from his chair, and holds out his hand towards Rukia. "Get up. I only have three hours to figure out how to win this case."

Rukia stares at the hand being stretched out to her. The skin was smooth, nails trimmed and cared for. It looked soft. Rukia decides that she can trust his hand and hesitantly takes it. Aizen pulls her up, the twinkling bell-like sound of chains between them.

"The police will escort you to a waiting room while I work this out. Don't give up, okay sport?" Aizen smiles at her, trying to be reassuring. The young girl had no idea that he only wanted her parent's money. She had no idea at all.

He's supposed to be their friend.

Only when a pair of police men accompanies Rukia through a set of huge double doors and into a waiting room does Aizen allow his smile to fall. It was replaced by a deep, malicious smirk.

He had a lot of work to do. 

~.~.~.~

"The case of Kuchiki Rukia, and the wealth of Kuchiki Byakuya and Kuchiki Hisana, will now commence."

The mallet falls.

~.~.~.~

"The defendant calls Kuchiki Rukia to the stand!"

…_..What?_

"Aizen, what are you doing?" She hisses to her lawyer, who is looking down at her with a apathetic expression. "Why are you doing this—"

"Just go, Rukia. I know what I'm doing." Aizen cuts her off, and gives her a pat on the back that's a little bit too hard. Rukia reluctantly rises and approaches a police man holding a Bible out to her. She puts her right hand on the cover.

"Kuchiki Rukia."

She nods.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do." Rukia mumbles, and slides her hand off of the Bible. The Judge glares at Rukia from his pedestal, his withering chin resting on his hand. The Judge is not a fan of mumbling.

"Kuchiki Rukia, please take the stand." Says the officer and then returns to The Judge's side obediently.

Rukia hesitantly walks over to the booth. The chair creaks painfully when she sits down in it, and Rukia briefly wonders how many damned and tortured souls have sat in this very chair. Rukia zones out at the thought, trying to conjure up the faces of the damned with glazed eyes. The sound of Aizen's smooth voice brings Rukia out of her stupor.

"Kuchiki Rukia." He says.

"Yes?"

"You are sixteen, correct?"

"Yes."

"That would make you a minor, meaning you have no access to your Kuchiki Byakuya's and Kuchiki Hisana's wealth until you are of age. In their last will," Aizen shuffles through a briefcase, then holds up a fancy-looking document. "Which I have right here, states that you must be eighteen to require said wealth."

"Yes."

"Alright, just making sure."

Rukia furrows her eyebrows. _What is up your sleeve, Aizen? _She thinks, watching the man step around the table to stand about five feet away from her, in between her and the judge. He shows another document to the jury before setting it on The Judge's podium.

"This is a certificate of mental insanity signed by five different doctors, all from separate hospitals."

"You bastard!" Rukia finally understands. Aizen isn't trying to win the case for her, he wants to lose it. She finally realizes that it's her money that Aizen wants in the end.

"Control yourself, Ms. Kuchiki, or I will have Officer Lin personally hold you down!" The Judge exclaims. "Continue, Mr. Aizen." He says as he puts on his glasses to read the document. He grunts, and hands it back to him.

"Thank you, Your Honor." Aizen says, giving Rukia a glare. She grits her teeth together. She couldn't believe she was letting Aizen practically steal her parent's money like this. Her hands grips the chair's sides, fuming.

"This documentation of Ms. Kuchiki's mental instability legally makes her unfit for the wealth of the Kuchiki family, and the inheritance of said family's energy corporation."

"Fuck you!" Rukia screams at him. "You're supposed to be _my_ lawyer! I trusted you!"

"Ms. Kuchiki!"

Rukia stands up quickly, causing her chair to topple over with a loud _crash._ She grips the side of the podium and glares at Aizen. If looks could kill.

"Thereby, the wealth and fortune, according to these two documents, would legally belong to Kuchiki Rukia's guardian." Says Aizen, a smirk playing on his thin, snake-like lips.

"No!" She screams. He can't…. he can't do this. He was supposed to be their friend! He was their friend!

"No further questions, your honor."

The audience in the courtroom claps, congratulating Aizen on a soon-to-be completed case, even if it was totally backwards. All Rukia can do is stare at them with shock. Numbness takes over her body, and her tongue feels as heavy as lead. She realizes she cannot speak.

He was their… friend.

Aizen chuckles to himself, gathering the two documents and putting them in a briefcase.

"Order, order!" Cries The Judge, hammering his mallet. "The fortune of Kuchiki Byakuya, and Kuchiki Hisana, will belong to Kuchiki Rukia's legal guardian the day after her eighteenth birthday unless she can prove her sanity. Kuchiki Rukia will be transported to the Seireitei Asylum until her sanity is approved by two doctors. Case closed."

The mallet falls, the sound echoing throughout the room, and it's over.

It's all over.

~.~.~.~

He cocks his head to the side, his orange bangs partially covering his eyes. "…what exactly did you do?"

Before I know it I've picked up the television and smashed it against the wall.

It shatters, sufficiently killing it.

That's enough talk for now.

I walk over to my white cot; lay down in it, my spine straight, and legs shoulder-width apart. Waiting to be strapped into my restraints patiently.

I'll need them tonight.

Not ten seconds after I committed the murder to the television, Sode no Shirayuki barges in, a few guards in tow. The guards strap me down, and I don't protest. Sode no Shirayuki just sighs when she looks at the television's graphic remains, and the guards leave with a beep of my door.

"Oh, Rukia, what am I going to do with you?" She purses her lips and sits down in a chair across from my bed. I stare at the ceiling, choosing to ignore her question. I'm pretty sure it's rhetorical anyway, because nobody knows what to do with me. Nobody has, ever since Aizen took my money the day after my eighteenth birthday. On that dreadful day, I was in Sode's office for at least four hours. She tried coaxing me with words, telling me that if I didn't speak that I wouldn't get my inheritance. She couldn't prove my sanity if I didn't talk to her about my problems.

It's a shame, really.

They tell me that Aizen invested all my money into some sort of scientific experiment. The head doctor's name of what they call the "Hollow Project" is Ulquiorra Cifer. I remember Sode brought me a newspaper to read once, with him in on the front page. He's a very pale, thin man who dresses in white clothing and has piercing green eyes, like an emerald. All and all, he creeps me out, and I feel a sense of loathing towards Aizen for whenever I think of him throwing all of my money into his work.

"Rukia, why did you break the t.v.?" Sode asks suddenly, pulling me out of my sea of lethargy. I raise my head to look at her, but I don't feel like talking anymore.

"Please, Rukia, will you just tell me? I want to help you get better." She says, her eyes tearing up slightly. "I mean that."

Her heartfelt words almost make me open my mouth, but I don't. I bet she's lying. She just wants to get paid. I lay my head back down on my pillow and stare at the cracks in the ceiling. I begin to count them.

I'm at crack three hundred and sixty-one when Sode no Shirayuki finally decides to stand up. She brushes away invisible dirt from her sun dress, opens the door, and leaves.

"I'm sorry, Sode." I whisper before the lights in my room shut off, my eyes flutter closed, and I drift into a restless sleep full of blood, silent words, and dangling feet.

_I'm sorry_.

/

**A/N: Well there you have it. I know this chapter is short but I update fast so please don't complain. :D **

**So the plot is starting to unfold! Dun dun dunnn!**

**Please review, because it's my oxygen.**

**Have a lovely day.**

**-Liym Enello**


	8. Episode 8: The Danger of Likability

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 8: The Danger of Likability

/

"Any progress?" Asks Yamamoto, shifting his weight in his chair and fiddling with is long white beard, held by crisscrossing strands of thin leather.

"Yes, Mr. Yamamoto! Rukia responded extremely well to her new treatment." Sode no Shirayuki lies enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. "I intended to have the same treatment tomorrow, after she's had breakfast."

"So she's finally broken her five years of silence?" Yamamoto puts his signature on a few papers, and replies to an email from Ukitake about new medicine development.

"Yes, Mr. Yamamoto! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Indeed it is. Just make sure that Kurosaki doesn't give Ms. Kuchiki any… ideas." He clicks the mouse and his email closes. Why is his job so difficult? It shouldn't have to be this way. If it wasn't for Kurosaki…

"I'm recording their conversations. There's nothing to be worried about, Mr. Yamamoto."

"Very well, you may be dismissed. I want a progress report on Kuchiki Rukia sitting on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Hai!" Sode starts for the door.

"Oh, and Ms. Shirayuki?"

"Hai, Mr. Yamamoto?" asks Sode, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Send in Mr. Zangetsu, will you?"

"Of course, Mr. Yamamoto."

~.~.~.~

I wake up, my eyes fluttering open to the not-so-welcoming sight of fluorescent white lights. I groan, and close my eyes again, begging for a dark, desolate sleep, but the light seems to be burning through my eyelids.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I wait for about thirty minutes, counting the cracks in the ceiling again when Matsumoto, the voluptuous titty lady, comes in with her cart full of items.

"Good morning, Ms. Kuchiki!" giggles Matsumoto. She pulls out a needle, and fills it a clear liquid.

A sedative. I notice that it's twice the amount that I usually get. Great.

She pokes it into my arm. I don't even wince at the pinch in my elbow anymore, I'm used to it.

"There we go… all your vitamins!" says Matsumoto. God, she's such a bad liar. Then she unties my restraints and I rise from my bed, extra slow because of the added sedative. The titty lady hands me a white robe, which I throw on lazily. She tosses me a pair of socks so I put those on too.

"You're showering today, correct? You didn't yesterday." Matsumoto crinkles her petite little nose, just slightly, signaling her disgust.

Yah, I didn't. So what? Who I'm I gussying up for?

_Oh, I don't know_. Mumbles my subconscious. _But he has orange hair, hazel eyes, and an aggressive -albeit charming- personality…_

I sigh, and roll my eyes.Shut up, subconscious. I need to focus on my shitty, scheduled day.

"Alright, Ms. Rukia," squeaks Matsumoto, her high-pitched voice grating against my eardrums. "Someone will be here to escort you to the showers in a few minutes." She leaves, my door beeps behind her.

I sit on my cot, which squeaks under my weight, and stare at the wall. I've noticed that somebody must have come into my room late last night and cleaned up, because the sickly shards of T.V. paraphernalia are gone, replaced by a shiny clean floor.

I wait the usual few minutes, which feel like hours, sitting by myself, before my door beeps and a man I recognize appears.

"Hello Ms. Kuchiki." The man nods. "Follow me."

I follow without question, almost zombie-like. I have no room to think in my brain when it's filled with images of Ichigo's sleepless eyes, asking a question I could probably never bring myself to answer. My head bows a little when I think about it. For some reason, the tile under my feet becomes more interesting than the people walking around me. I even hear the sound of Grimmjow's chuckle, when I assume we cross paths, but I don't even bother to look up.

The escort leads me to the shower hall, and unlocks one of them. It's a white, (of course) tiled, walk-in shower. A faded glass door unlocks and I step inside. The escort locks the door behind me, to make sure I don't cause any trouble, and says he'll be back to escort me to lunch in fifteen minutes.

Usually, these showers are a somewhat nice part of my day, with the hot water, sweet-smelling soap, and just the general feeling of being clean.

But I usually only spend about five minutes in there because I can't stand being alone. The escort must be new, because everyone else knows it only takes me five minutes to shower, and he's giving me an extra ten. I grunt, and shed my robe, throwing it into the corner of the shower where I know an assistant will collect later to wash.

I wait a few seconds, until somebody, somewhere, presses a button to turn on the shower head. There aren't many buttons in this shower, just and up or down for temperature. They don't want any levers in here that we could hurt ourselves with, so they control the flow of water, and the temperature if they think you're scalding yourself.

I set the temp at a mild seventy-five degrees, and pour some shampoo into my hand from the dispenser. I slop it onto my hair, wash my body for a few minutes, and then just sit down, letting the water and bubbles cascade down my lower back. I sit with my legs pulled up against my chest, my head on my knees. My hair silently ripples around my face with the force of the water, blinding me and creating the whooshing sound your ears make when they're covered and water is running over them.

I sit and absorb the sound for a while, letting it drown out every thought.

I also think about Ichigo. I wonder if he's okay, if he's sleeping at all. Or if they're giving him enough meds that he won't be able to hurt himself. They better be. I think about his orange hair, if it darkens if it's wet from a shower, or if it's still a bright orange hue with water running through it, down his face, pale neck, muscular shoulders, abs…

Stop.

Just stop, Rukia. You are in an asylum.

An asylum.

The water automatically shuts off and there's a knock on the door. "Time's up, Ms. Kuchiki." I get up and grab a towel hanging on a post on the far side of the shower's wall, and wrap it around my wet body. I knock on the door two times, I already know the drill, and the door unlocks to reveal the same escort. "Here," he hands me another robe identical to the one I left on the floor, and I throw that on too. He offers me a pair of slippers, which I deem is okay to wear only if you're coming out of a shower. He escorts me back to my room and shuts the door. I take off the robe, and towel dry my hair quickly before putting the robe back on, waiting for somebody to bring me clothes for the day.

A few minutes later, (the standard time, of course) a little nurse I know who's name is Momo patters into the room with a cart just slightly smaller than Matsumoto's. Momo is the complete opposite of titty woman, with modest sized breasts, generic dark brown hair pulled back in a bun and large brown eyes. She's a subtle beauty who hands me my usual pair of sweats and a white, slim-fit t-shirt. She also gives me a pair of socks and sneakers before giving me a small smile and leaving the room, saying somebody will arrive to take me to breakfast.

I sit on the bed again, waiting the few minutes it will take for an escort to arrive here. I think about all my past days, except for yesterday, that have been exactly like this one. I shower every other day, then get dressed, escorted to breakfast, escorted to my room where I have to wait for three hours (which is the worst,) until I meet with Sode. The meeting consists of her trying to convince me to speak while I just sit there, mute, and half listen to her, half ignore her. Then I'm escorted to lunch. After that, I can either go back to my room or go to the Activity Space, which I never do. Then I'm escorted to dinner. After dinner I'm in my room, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for sleep to lead me into darkness.

Then the cycle starts over and over again.

It wasn't until yesterday, when Ichigo brought me out of my stupor with a rebellious act, a wink, and a salute. He made me feel important, that I would be acknowledged in such a way. He was… good for me. It wasn't until lunch, when he came back and opened my juice box, that I realized he could be my ticket out of here. We could team up, pool our resources, and maybe find a way out of this synchronized hell hole. But during dinner, even when I thought it was going well and we had a chance, he did something stupid again and attacked an escort, sending him into The Box.

I'm sitting there pondering why he would attack Renji when my door beeps and an unidentifiable woman enters.

"Good morning, Ms. Kuchiki." She says. "Please follow me."

She leads me to breakfast. When I walk into the cafeteria, the mindless chatter suddenly goes silent and all eyes are trailed on me when I pick up an apple to eat and sit at my usual table.

"Yo, dude, look – it's Kuchiki."

"I can see that, dumbass."

"Look, is she talking at all? Can you hear her? Is she—"

"Shut up, imbecile! Her mouth isn't even moving…"

I sigh and nibble on my apple while I stare down the creeps that look at me and wiggle their eyebrows suggestively. I periodically check the big double doors leading into the cafeteria, expecting Ichigo to come bursting through them any minute with an assistant's pass held between two fingers.

It never happens. I finish my apple and leave the core on my tray for somebody to throw away. The bell tolls and an escort arrives to sweep me off my feet like a damsel in distress. "Time to go, Ms. Kuchiki."

I assume that the escort is going to lead me to my room, but he doesn't. Instead, he leads me down a labyrinth of hallways and straight into Sode no Shirayuki's office. Aren't I supposed to wait three hours before I have an appointment with her?

"In you go, Ms. Kuchiki," the escort says and opens the door. I step in, listening to the door beep closed behind me. I sit down in my usual high-backed chair, waiting for Sode to speak. She's on the far side of the room, setting up another T.V.

Great. I cross my arms and pray that I actually just get to watch cartoons this time.

"Hello, Rukia!" Sode exclaims and claps her hands together when she's finally able to turn the T.V. on. It's slightly static-y, and squeaks very loudly when Sode wheels it closer to me, as far as the extension cord with allow. I raise my eyebrow at her.

Are you serious.

"Of _course_ I'm serious Rukia!" says Sode no Shirayuki. "I looked over the recording of your conversation with Ichigo. I swear, hearing your voice almost brought tears to my eyes. It truly did."

I grunt. Yah. Right.

"Oh don't give me that look, Rukia." Says Sode, hands on her hips. "If you just give Ichigo another chance, I think this can be really good for you."

I shake my head no. Ichigo is bad for me. He makes me do reckless things. He made me break my vow of silence. Any hope of him being a useful ally for me to get out of here is demolished. He's stuck in the box.

"This is your therapy today, sweetie. Take it or leave it." Sode no Shirayuki squints at me sternly. "And you can't leave it." She takes her hands off her hips and sashays out of the room, leaving me all by my lonesome. The television suddenly sparks to life, and I see Ichigo's face peering into the camera curiously. He's surrounded by darkness again, the only light illuminating his face is made by the T.V. screen.

"Rukia? Oi—Rukia!" His face, (with his dark circles under his eyes, cut lip, and fading bruises) lights up a little. "How you doin', Kuchiki?"

I clear my throat, but I don't say anything. My eyes drift to the tiled floor, which is suddenly one hundred times more interesting.

"So what's going—wait—oi! Are you ignoring me? Oi!" screams Ichigo into the camera. I have the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up and slap him one, but of course my voice fails me and I would just look silly slapping a T.V. monitor.

"Fine, be that way. I wasn't really expecting you to talk with me anyway, what with you bashing the T.V. to bits last night…"

Shut up, Ichigo…

"What made you so angry? I hardly remember, it was a while ago… and they have me on this heavy sedative…" his thoughts trail off for a brief moment, his eyes cast downward. "Oi, Rukia! Guess what. Ukitake has developed some new medicine, isn't that cool? He came to see me last night. Real nice guy, ya know?"

Shut up, Ichigo.

"He told me that I should be his first subject to test it on." Ichigo chuckles, almost darkly, to himself. His voice gets an octave higher, and has a creepy, haunting tone to it. "But then I told him that I've already been tested on once, and that's what brought me here."

Shut up Ichi—wait, what? I perk up, Ichigo's story suddenly becoming the most interesting soap opera on the planet.

"That's sick, isn't it… Rukia…" he says, his eyes glazing over. His neck cracks slightly when he twists it in the way he does when he's losing control. I swallow hard, and cross my arms tightly across my chest like a shield.

"I really don't want to be tested on anymore." Ichigo is precipitously back to normal. His eyes are focused, his voice in its deep velvety level.

Wow. That was fast.

"I—" I mumble, almost incoherently. "I—I'm sorry, Ichigo." I clear my throat as he tilts his head to the side, out of amusement.

"I'm sorry about what happened."

"Nah, it's not a big deal, Kuchiki." He shrugs it off, like he does every other damn thing that's pretty damn important but not worth a damn to him. I'm so fucking tired of that phrase.

"That's the thing, Ichigo. It is a big deal." I pause, and then speak up again, my breath coming quicker and my heart beating faster. "I don't even know what it is but if it sent you here then it must be pretty damn important!"

I'm leaning forward in my chair, inches away from the T.V. screen, about to rip his head off. He's so apathetic over the reason of how he got here. How could he not _care_? Brush it off like it's nothing? _Why_ isn't it a big deal to him?

"Whoa there, tiger," Ichigo shifts as if to raise his arms up in defense, but they're behind his back in a strait jacket. "No need to pounce on me, guns blazing." He raises an orange eyebrow at me. "Is there?"

"Well you're kinda pissing me off." I state the obvious.

_Way to go Captain Obvious. _My subconscious glares at me over her half-moon spectacles. Oh shut up.

"Yah, I can see that." He smirks, the action lighting up his tawny eyes. I find myself short of breath and glance away from the television screen for a reprieve. I mean, he may be beat up, but _damn…_

_Stop acting like this, Kuchiki! He's just a boy! _My subconscious rolls her eyes. _Not to mention illegal._

Illegal? Oh right. He's seventeen.

Well, shit. I'll have to abandon these reactions before they happen again. If he's going to be apathetic, I can too. It really is too easy, to pretend not to care. I've been doing it for five years – at least. I huff, and turn my eyes back to Ichigo, who's still smiling. Shit.

I clear my throat nervously. "So how're you doing?"

"Oh same old, same old. You?"

"Same old, same old." I say, the sides of my mouth curling up a bit. But why does he have to be so _damn cute_ when he talks?

He chuckles at my comment, shaking his head slightly. "You really are a piece of work, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean!" I pipe up. "You fool! You're the one who's a piece of work!"

"At least I'll admit it!" He wriggles his eyebrows playfully. "You're the one who's hiding stuff from me."

"Oh please. Don't try to guilt trip me into talking about that shit." I say, and lean back in my chair, avoiding the T.V. again.

Dangerous.

Territory.

"You haven't even since the worst of it. I can guilt trip you to Timbuktu." He smirks at me, obviously having a grand old time on the little pedestal he's put himself on.

"Can not!" I yell back childishly. What is it about this boy that brings the kid out in me? I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him, because I know Sode no Shirayuki will be watching this later and I don't want her thinking that I'm crazier than I already am.

"Can too!" He says back.

"I'd like to see you try, Kurosaki." I say, all snarky as fuck.

"Maybe I will." He says back in a deep, slow voice. It sends a shiver up my spine and goosebumps ring my arms. Shit. Can he see that through the shitty quality of the T.V.? I hope not.

We continue to talk playfully back and forth for the next hour, just talking about the most random shit. I can't believe I was resolving to detach myself from him before. I just can't. He's like a sickness, no, scratch that, he's like a virus that I can't get rid of. His voice, laugh, demeanor, smile, it's all addicting.

Ichigo is my favorite T.V. show.

So when he tells me that his favorite food is Karashi Mentaiko, I almost crap my pants laughing.

"You know that stuff is made from the internal organs of Pollock fish, right?" I exclaim, clapping my hands together and having a new fit of giggles. "That's dis-gust-_ting_!"

"Is not!" He puffs out his chest. "It's really quite delicious."

"No." I say, "No, Ichigo, it is not."

We spend the next hour in this similar fashion, asking stupid questions, answering stupid questions, like my favorite color, number, what kind of pet I let best, to which I immediately say is a fluffy white bunny, which sends Ichigo into a fit of giggles so intense you think somebody was ramming laughing gas down his throat.

In front of Ichigo, I allow myself to smile.

And I realize that he is a good.

/

~.~.~.~

**A/N: This chapter is mostly filler, but I revealed a very important clue to Ichigo's… condition… if you read carefully you should know. I looked it up, and the Pollock fish thingy food is actually Ichigo's favorite. **

**Only God knows why. **

**But, as always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! **

**P.S. – sorry for any typos or some shit, I'm kinda jacked up on crack when I write these and my mind just runs amuck. Mneh.**

**P.P.S – PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! :D**


	9. Episode 9: The Machine's Spark

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 9: The Machine's Spark

/

"Experiment 3A is secure. Ready to proceed?"

He was so fucked up he didn't even care that they just called him Experiment 3A. He didn't care about anything. The drugs, they really did things to his body, his brain. Terrible things.

~.~.~.~

A man by the name of Aizen found him on a cold, raining Sunday night. Ichigo was huddled on the curb of a filthy street in a beat up leather jacket, hair matted down with sweat and rain, shivering from withdrawals. Aizen couldn't believe his luck.

"You look like you need help," said Aizen, reaching a hand out to the shivering seventeen year old.

"Fuck-k-k… you-u-u." said Ichigo through vibrating as he looked at the man standing above him with a hard glare. "I d-don't need… h-h-help."

"'Common." Aizen rolled his eyes and pulled the young boy to his feet. Ichigo swayed, but Aizen held onto him, wrapping his arm around the boy's torso and leading him away from the curb. Aizen checked behind his shoulder to make sure no one was watching them make their way across the street.

Ichigo retched, throwing up the measly breakfast he managed to have this morning onto the asphalt, leaving a putrid green acid trail.

"Oh, god." Aizen mumbled and opened the door to his sleek black Mercedes. "Get in."

Ichigo groaned something incoherently, some puke still resting on the side of his mouth. He was too fucked up to care, or even realize, where he was or where he was going. Aizen shoved Ichigo in the car and slammed the door behind him and then got into the passenger's seat.

"Drive." Said Aizen, and the pale man with ancient green eyes pressed on the gas pedal hard, the sound of screeching tires and burning rubber decimating the air.

"Are you sure this boy won't be traced?" said the pale man as he weaved through the streets of Karakura Town.

"Yes, I'm sure." Aizen said, exasperated. "He's a nobody. He has no one." He watched the droplets of rain outside gather and race down the window pane. "When can we start with him, Ulquiorra?" Aizen nods to the boy in the backseat, who is shivering and trying to hold his body together.

"As soon as we get back to the lab." Said the Ulquiorra dully, in monotone.

"Perfect." He bared his teeth in an elegant, yet snake-like smile.

Ichigo, trying to squint through his un-focused vision, settled his gaze on the two men in the front of the car. Shivers wrack his whole body. The two men's whispers seems to bend in and out of coherency. He isn't able to understand a thing. Ichigo's eyelids slowly pull over his irises, sending him into an oblivion he would be terrified to remember.

~.~.~.~

After an hour or so, the car pulls into a gated property. The black iron rod gate opened, seemingly on its own accord, to welcome the midnight black Mercedes. The moon had risen to its peak during their travel, and cast a ghostly light on the property.

Ulquiorra parked in front of a grand white mansion. It had many windows, and a slanted orange tiled roof. It was a beautiful Mexican styled home.

"Care to help me with the boy, Ulquiorra?" asked Aizen as he opened the door to the backseat. Ulquiorra ignored him and stepped out of the car to the front door. He unlocked it with a keycard and walked inside without saying a word. Aizen sighed, and hefted Ichigo into his arms and half dragged, have carried Ichigo into the lavish estate.

Ulquiorra pressed the button to the elevator that was inside, and watched as Aizen shuffled into the elevator along with Ichigo, who was moaning something as he weaved in and out of consciousness.

"Retina scan, please." Said an automated voice on an intercom in the elevator. Ulquiorra shifted forward slightly, and a laser scanned his disarmingly green eyes. "Access granted. Which floor?"

"Basement." Said Ulquiorra, and the door of the elevator closed abruptly before sending the elevator to the bottom floor of the estate.

"I hope my money isn't going to waste." Aizen scrunches his nose when Ichigo heaves against him with spasms.

"Well it wasn't really your money to begin with, Aizen." Said Ulquiorra as the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors opened. He stepped out of the elevator. "You practically stole it from that Kuchiki girl."

"Why do you care?" hissed Aizen, shoving Ichigo out of the elevator. Ichigo responded with a pained groan.

"I don't." Ulquiorra said. "But no, your money will not go to waste. This one will work, I'm sure this time."

"The last two didn't turn out so well." Aizen mused, and pushed Ichigo onto a cold metal gurney.

Ichigo's mind started to become clearer, knowing now that he was in danger. He was in a strangers weird basement, at death's door in withdrawals, heaving on a gurney, and the bizarre pale man with green tattoos on his face was injecting some kind of IV into his arm.

"W-wait." Whispered Ichigo through chattering teeth. "I… don't-t… s-s-top…"

"Quiet." Said Aizen.

Ulquiorra deftly secured Ichigo onto the gurney with leather restraints. He turned on a metal contraption, which buzzed to life with an irritating mosquito-like sound. He pulled it down and put it over Ichigo's head, and strapped him to that too. The metal dug into Ichigo's head sharply when he pulled away from it instinctually.

"No… s-stop." Whispered Ichigo weakly.

"Experiment 3A is secure. Ready to proceed?" asked Ulquiorra.

He was so fucked up he didn't even care that they just called him Experiment 3A. He didn't care about anything. The drugs, they really did things to his body, his brain. Terrible things.

"Yes. Yes of course." Aizen nodded.

"In ten…." Said Ulquiorra, turning on the huge machine connected to Ichigo's metal helmet. "Nine…"

An evil glint shown in Aizen's eye as he watched Ichigo squirm, trying to free himself from the leather restraints.

"Eight…"

"No!" Ichigo used all his strength to scream, but no one cared. No one ever did. His father had cast him out once he found out about the drugs. His sisters were scared of him. His mother was long dead.

"Help me!" He screamed.

"Seven…."

"No…!"

"Six…."

Aizen let out a chuckle, and leaned in close to whisper in Ichigo's ear. Ichigo was thrashing about wildly, trying desperately to free himself, but it was no use.

"You're going to make history, boy." Aizen said, and walked away, towards the elevator.

"Don't… l-leave me!" cried Ichigo, glaring at Aizen with plain and unadulterated fury. "Help me!"

"Five…"

"Good luck, Ulquiorra." Aizen said, nodding the pale scientist.

"Four…"

"No!"

"Three…"

"No!"

"Two…"

Ichigo screamed as the elevator doors closed on Aizen's smirking face. His last hope was now a floor above him, in the real world, not this hell.

"One."

The electric shock was the most painful thing Ichigo had ever experienced. Fuck the drugs, fuck the withdrawals, fuck the meaningless fights in the alleys of Karakura Town that broke his bones. This was the most painful thing he had ever gone through.

"I think it's working…"

The last thing Ichigo saw before he blacked out was the light sparking in Ulquiorra usually lifeless eyes. But the last thing he heard was Ulquiorra surprised scream when his arms broke free of his restraints with animal force and wrapped his fingers around his pale throat.

~.~.~.~

Ichigo struggled to open his eyes, but when he did, he wanted to close them.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Soaking his hair. Staining his hands. Covering the soles of his shoes. He stood up immediately. The room was covered in it. Red. The windows. The floor. The lifeless body that slumped against the far wall.

Dazed, and confused, Ichigo made his way over to the body, that was beaten so badly it was almost unrecognizable. Ichigo kneeled in front of it, and pushed the blood-soaked mop of hair away from the body's face. Ichigo retched when he saw lifeless cerulean eyes glaring back at him. His puke mixed with the blood on the floor into the nastiest of cocktails. He heaved against the floor until nothing else came up. When he was done, Ichigo shakily rose to his feet and staggered over to the elevator.

_Did I just… kill someone? _Ichigo thought as he blindly hit a button on the elevator that sent him to the first floor. The doors opened, and Ichigo burst into the foyer, the blood on his shoes tainting the perfect white carpet.

_Shit… shit…. Shit! _Ichigo thought. He was knee-deep in it now. His life would never be the same. He was a murderer. A villain.

Ichigo finely found a bathroom, and stumbled into it. He turned on the shower and washed the blood off of his body, trying to remember how he killed the mad pale man who had tortured him. But Ichigo didn't remember anything. The last moment that came into his mind was when he, the scientist, and the man with the brown hair exited the elevator.

"Where is he…" Ichigo spoke to himself. "Did I murder him too?"

He washed the blood from his clothes as best he could, and then left the house. The black Mercedes that they arrived in was long gone. After a few minutes walk, Ichigo approached the black iron gate. It wouldn't budge. Ichigo just climbed over it shakily, and landed on the ground with a loud thud. A crow cawed. The black night engulfed the woods that surrounded the mansion.

Ichigo only made it a few miles before the police found him.

~.~.~.~

"I want to talk about your favorite color, again, Ichigo." Zangetsu says.

"You honestly think it would be different then the last time you asked that question?" I say, rolling my eyes and fiddling with my handcuffs. What a fucking dumbass.

"Yes. A lot has happened to you these past two weeks. I want to know if your view point has changed."

It's true. A lot of shit _has_ happened to me this week. I've recovered from my injuries, the bruises and cuts almost fully healed. I've gotten to talk to Rukia almost every day via television. We haven't talked about anything serious since she broke the television that day. We usually just talk about random, stupid stuff. Nothing serious.

I've slept. The first time in a week. It was for a fives hours. A brilliant, but terrifying five hours full of sparks and blankets of blood. But when I woke up the next morning from the fitful nightmare, I felt more at ease then I have in a long time.

"Ichigo, please answer the question."

"Damn you, old man. I'm taking my time." I say as I ponder the question.

Zangetsu waits patiently with a leg draped over a knee, his fingers forming a steeple with concentration.

"It's… violet." I say when I think of Rukia's dark purple orbs.

"What's that?" says Zangetsu, raising an eyebrow.

"I said my favorite color is violet." I say again, and lean back into my plush white chair.

"I see." Zangetsu muses, stirring something in his teacup. "That's about as close to the opposite of white as you can get. Besides black, of course."

"Yah… So?" I question, running a hand through my orange locks nervously.

"It means you're making progress, Ichigo." Zangetsu pauses to take a sip from his cup. "But, unfortunately, I'm not sure if this progress is going either in the positive or negative direction."

I raise an eyebrow at this. "I honestly think that my favorite color isn't really a key factor to my recovery."

"Yes, because you're obviously the trained therapist so my ways of therapy do not make sense at all." He chuckles to himself.

"Don't mock me old man!" I yell.

"Whatever, Ichigo." He says, and then waves a hand at me, shooing me away. "That's enough for today. Go talk to the Kuchiki girl."

I smile, almost happily, at the mention of Rukia.

"Whatever, Dr. Zangetsu."

/

**Sorry to cut off this chapter awkwardly but I'm super duper tired and I have school tomorrow (I just wrote for like 3 hours straight). But first, I would like to apologize for the lack of updates lately. I've been really busy with school and friends, and THE HUNGER GAMES. The movie was so awesome and true to the book like I can't even. Anyway, this chapter offers a huge insight to Ichigo's past. Sorry for the lack of Rukia in this one. You'll see plenty of her in the next chapter though. **

**Please review! It really makes writing this worthwhile to me. Let's try to hit 100, shall we? YIPPEE!**

**Until next time,**

**-Liym Enello**


	10. Episode 10: The Newsflash

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 10: The Newsflash

/

~.~.~.~.~

_The television buzzed to life._

~.~.~.~.~

"Hi."

"Hey."

~.~.~.~.~

"…" Her eyes are glassy.

"Say something."

"Um…" They shift to the left, avoiding my gaze.

"What is it?"

"…" She bites her lip.

"Fuck you, Rukia. Speak. Don't go all silent on me."

"I'm sorry, Ichigo." She says, her lip quivering now, tears welling in her violet eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I say. "…Rukia?"

"I said I'm sorry!"

"What for?"

She shuts the television off, leaving me in a choking darkness.

**- FIVE HOURS EARLIER—**

"Good morning, Rukia!" Sode no Shirayuki bursts into the room with fervor. My door beeps behind her as it automatically locks. Sode looks perfect, as always. Smooth and crisp lavender lipstick. Light mascara. Curled lashes. Finely arches brows. Slight dash of rosy blush. Her hair looks like she just got out of the salon, falling in shimmering pale blond sheets.

"Hey, Sode." I sigh. I'm used to talking to Sode now. It's been two weeks since Ichigo and I first talked on the television, and according to Sode I've improved. Improved in what, I'm not sure. Whatever.

"It still makes my heart flutter when I hear your sweet voice, Rukia!" Exclaims Sode, and pats my head with a manicured hand. I cringe away from the contact and Sode tries to hide the hurt and pity in her eyes. I stare at the ceiling, which just became infinitely more interesting.

"Please don't 'silent treat' me, darling." Sighs Sode while pulling a clipboard and pen out from behind her back somehow. She clicks the pen against the clipboard while she looks at it.

"Apparently, you're not supposed to talk with Mr. Kurosaki until you've eaten today." She says. I roll my eyes. "According to your schedule, Rukia. Don't give me that look. It's not my fault you don't get to have a wake-and-bake."

I sit up abruptly in my bed, staring at Sode with wide eyes. "_What?_"

"I know it's hard, Rukia, but you're going to have to wait to talk to Mr. Kurosaki until after breakfast."

"No, no, no, Sode. I wasn't talking about that." I glare at her. "Did… did you just say…. _Wake-and-bake_?"

"Yes. Wake-and-bake. Isn't that what the cool kids are calling a fun morning these days? Wake. And. Bake?" She enunciates the words like they're foreign on her tongue.

"Oh my God, Sode," I say, "No."

"What are you talking about dear Rukia? Did I say something wrong?"

"Sode, wake-and-bake means that you take drugs and get stoned right when you wake up."

Sode no Shirayuki leaves the room, mumbling that somebody will be picking me up in a few minutes to escort me to breakfast. It's only when the door beeps behind her that I allow myself to fall into a fit of giggles, in order to save her from further embarrassment.

~.~.~.~.~

"Good morning, Rukia!" Says Dr. Ukitake. Another exclamation. Might as well be the final nail in my coffin. It's early. So damn early.

"Humph."

"Why so glum?"

It's the morning? Ukitake must be jacked up on espresso. Or something. "Humphhhhh."

"Nevermind. How is Mr. Kurosaki doing these days?"

"Um… Good," I start, but then correct myself. He is not doing well. "I mean better. He's better."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Most of the bruises on his face have faded, and the cuts on his lip are starting to heal." I say, totally disregarding details on Ichigo's mental health, as we walk leisurely towards the Eating Space in the brightly lit hallway. Dr. Ukitake is one of the only people in this asylum that I've allowed myself to talk to.

"I'm so glad to hear that he's better," Ukitake smiles. "Although, I wish the incident hadn't happened to him in the first place."

"Me too."

We continue to walk in a silence that is slightly uncomfortable. We arrive at the Eating Space without much distraction, though, and he swipes his assistant security pass to let me in.

"Have a nice breakfast." He says grimly, and then leaves with a beep of a door.

I pick up my usual apple and juice and sit at my table like always. I'm thinking about how fun eating used to be with Ichigo around, and wondering when he'll be allowed to eat in the cafeteria again, if ever. I think of Grimmjow, and how he's eaten in his own private room for… well, for forever. I'm about to lose hope of ever eating with Ichigo again when a tall dark figure burst through the cafeteria doors. I'm having flashbacks, almost imagining orange hair, a lanky but muscular build, and a scowl, but I realize that the figure is too muscular. His hair… too blue. His face is set in a vicious smile.

It's none other than Grimmjow himself.

The whole cafeteria dissipates into silence as everyone watches Grimmjow enter the Eating Space for the first time in years. I haven't seen nor heard of Grimmjow in so long, that I almost miss him. His playful smirk, the wicked brightness of his eyes. He makes his way across the room, accompanied by six or so guards, and piles a heap of food, enough for three men, onto his tray. He turns, and his guards turn with him. He's looking for a table.

His eyes lock on mine.

"Oh no." I whisper to myself. He sets himself down across from me. By now every patient in the room is chatting.

"Grimmjow... _what?_"

"How?"

"I don't even…"

"What is it with this Rukia girl and super-hot guys!" shouts one of the female patients. A few of the men at her table, who I know for fact to be gay, nod their heads in agreement. I smile at that one.

"Sup, 'lil lady." Grimmjow smirks as he shovels food into his mouth. Bits and pieces fly everywhere.

"Oh my God." I roll my eyes at him, and he smiles. This must be the first time he's heard my voice.

"What, I can't sit with you?"

"No." I say, scoffing at him and taking a sip from my juice box. Its strawberry flavored. My new favorite.

"Why? Gotta boyfriend?" He asks suggestively, and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Ugh!" I fight the urge to throw my green apple at him. "No!"

"Boy Toy?"

"No!"

"Then what is it then, darlin'?"

"Well, I'm getting over the shock of you _actually_ being in here."

"In where?" He smirks.

"The Eating Space, you juvenile." I say.

"Oh. Well I'm gettin' over the shock of listening to your voice."

"Touché." I cross my arms. He had me with that one.

"Listen, I won't bother ya anymore." He picks up his tray, all his food gone. He's like a bottomless abyss. "But it was nice chattin' with ya. Catch you on the flip side… Kuchiki." He gives me a disarming smirk, one that is slightly more creepy than intended. Or was it?

I shiver, and it's not from the cold.

~.~.~.~

"Look, Rukia!" Exclaims Sode no Shirayuki as she burst into the Eating Space right as Grimmjow left. God, enough with the exclaiming already. "I brought you a paper today!"

I peer at her over my juice box, take a rebellious sip, and then acknowledge her. "But you haven't brought me a newspaper since… seven months and three days ago."

"Geez, has it been that long?" Sode muses and slides in to sit next to me at the table. "You're good with numbers, by the way. Anyway-" Sode produces the newspaper, and hands it to me. "I know how bored you get at breakfast, since you eat like a bird and have nothing to do until the period is over."

"Thanks, Sode." I say, humbled by her kindness.

"No probs, girl." She squeaks, and gets up from the table.

"You really need to stop using teen slang with me, Sode!" I shout after her. She just winks at me and leaves the room.

I look at the newspaper with zeal. I haven't really read anything for months, and it's a refreshing thing to do when you bored as hell during breakfast. I mindlessly nibble on my apple while I skim the newspaper.

The heading hits me like a punch in the ovaries.

"New Evidence Found in the _Hollow Project _Case!" shouts the heading in big bold letters. My fingers shake, and the newspaper falls onto my tray. No. No, no, no, no, no.

_No._

I don't want to, but I can't help it. I read the article.

_New evidence has been reprimanded in the hottest court scandal in Karakura Town: The Hollow Project Case. After the gruesome death of Ulquiorra Cifer, a well-known and respected local scientist, The Hollow Project case has been brought to a new light. A piece of rare footage has been found, taken by the security cameras in Cifer's laboratory located in the basement of his estate. The police had finally been able to hack into Cifer's security system to confiscate the footage._

I shut my eyes closed, trying to gather my thoughts for a moment, and open them again. I can't stop now. They haven't talked about Aizen yet.

_After the footage leaked to the press, horror abounded. The footage revealed a very ghastly and immoral experimental torture on a human being, via electric shock charges targeted to the brain. The footage showed a young boy, most likely between the age of 16 and 19, being tortured with these electric shocks. After many horrific minutes of this exercise, the boy, who was strapped down to a gurney, broke free of his manacles and charged at Ulquiorra Cifer. The footage ended when a blood splatter covered the camera lens. _

My eyebrows furrow. I never expected that Aizen would use my money for this purpose.

_The boy in the footage has recently been identified as Kurosaki Ichigo, a local high school dropout from Karakura Town. Kurosaki Ichigo was the boy who pleaded guilty to for the murder of Ulquiorra Cifer, and was sent to Seireitei Asylum, some thirty miles away from Karakura Town. This new footage, however, might be beneficial to Kurosaki's case. _

_Kurosaki's family refused to comment on the newly found evidence. _

_Many concerned people wonder, what happened to Aizen Sosuke? Aizen was the main proprietor to Cifer's experiment. No news has been reported on his whereabouts._

I crumple up the newspaper and throw it across the room like it was poisonous, acidic liquid.

My screams were high-pitched, and shrill. The guards in the room called for the doctors, and I was given a sedative immediately to calm me down.

Sweet, sweet, sedative.

I fall into my calming consciousness with ease.

/

**Yo. It's Liym Enello here with another update! Brought to you by…. Reviews! Yes! Reviews! They keep my going! Every single one counts!**

**I want to get to 100 reviews before I update again, solely because I want more people to read this fic, and know about it. I just want it to be recognized.**

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**Until next time,**

**-Liym Enello**


	11. Episode 11: The Hallucination

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 11: The Hallucination

/

Blackness. My eyes were open, but that's all I saw in my imaginary mindset.

The sedative they used was a strong one.

Suddenly, I could feel my body. My pale skin is like a glowing beacon flashing in the dark. I see my feet. My ankles. My legs. Thighs. White Panties. Stomach. Lacey bra. I looked at my hands. They were resting on something soft and creamy white. I was sitting in a chair, a white plush chair, like the one in Sode's office.

I tried to get up, but my body willed me against it. In this dream, I am motionless. A paralyzed porcelain china doll.

"Hey, Midget." Comes a voice. I look up. It's Ichigo, dressed in a midnight black shirt, unbuttoned a few times, revealing a toned torso. Gray jeans. Barefoot. He's leaning against something, but I don't know what it is. It's black just like everything else. It looks like he's leaning back on air. He looks up at me through his orange bangs.

"Hello." I whisper back. My vocal chords vibrate. My mouth is able to move. That's good.

All of a sudden he's in front of me, his six-foot-something frame towering over my five-foot-nothing body huddled on the chair. His hands are in his pockets. Nonchalant.

"How are you?" He breathes, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"I'm okay, I guess." I stutter a little. "J-Just a little cold."

"Che—probably. In your sexy little outfit."

I want to wrap my arms around my somewhat exposed body but the only thing I can move is my mouth.

"Shut up." I tell him.

"You're beautiful, Rukia." He cuts me off. His amber eyes are warm, like liquid caramel chocolate… He leans forward slightly, and places both arms on the back of the chair, successfully trapping me. As if I could move anyway. His face is mere inches from mine.

"Kiss me." He demands. His breath is hot on my neck. My cheeks flush.

I want to. But— "I can't."

"Why not?" His eyebrows furrow, his eyes are laced with anger. "Kiss me, Rukia."

"I said I can't!" I whimper at him. Why doesn't he understand that I just can't move?

Ichigo looks angry. His arms slowly slide down the back of the chair, down my arms. It causes my body to shiver, and it's not from the cold. Goosebumps rise up on my immobile arms. "Kiss me." – "No." In a sudden fit of rage, he pulls his arm back and punches the chair, right next to my head. The force of his blow pushes the chair back a foot. "Dammit, kiss me, Rukia."

"Ichigo..."

His eyes narrow when the sounds of footsteps echo behind him.

A very pale man comes up behind Ichigo. I raise my eyebrow questioningly, wondering why Dr. Ulquiorra is in this dream. There's something in his hands. It looks like a metal helmet, with crisscrossing metal weaving it, putting it together. There are sparks of lightning shooting out from it on all sides. He places it on Ichigo's head, and then disappears into the darkness.

Ichigo, with the helmet secured tightly to his skull, smiles, showing all his teeth in a threatening way. Golden color starts to seep into his eyes, making his irises glow with growing hatred. The sclera of his eyes turns black. His demonic gaze stares straight into my soul. With a malicious growl, he grabs my shoulders and crushes his mouth onto mine, taking everything and giving nothing.

I would've squirmed. Maybe even screamed. But my body doesn't move and his mouth smothers my voice. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, and bites my lip hard, breaking the skin. With a groan, he pulls back. His lips are red with my blood.

"I'll consume you completely one day, Rukia." He whispers in my ear. "This is just the beginning."

Blood fills my mouth and slides down my throat. I try to speak, to tell him to save me, fuck me, and get away from me all at the same time. The blood blocks out any syllable, and I know I'm choking. Shocked gurgles escape my throat when he grabs the top of the chair violently with both hands, and pushes it hard. The chair falls backward, and instantly the floor is gone. I'm falling. The blood that fills my lungs also covers me, soaking my bra and panties and skin with is wine-like color. It's scalding hot.

There isn't even time to scream before I hit black solid ground.

~.~.~.~

"Rukia, wake up."

My eyelids feel like they're glued together.

"Rukia…"

"Mmm?" I murmur. My eyes snap open to the not-so-inviting fluorescent lights.

Fuck.

"Rukia, darling? It's me, Sode."

Sode?

I blink, and my eyes adjust to the brightness. It's in such contrast with the utter darkness from my dream. I blink harder, and Sode's face becomes clearer.

"Hey, Sode." I croak.

"I heard you had an accident." Her eyes are sad, and full of pity. God, this is a pity party.

"Accident?" I rise up from the bed I'm laying down in. I lean my back against the wall. "Understatement of the century, Dr. Shirayuki."

Her eyebrows furrow, but she looks down at the floor and sighs, saying nothing. I notice that I'm not in my room. The wall I'm leaning against isn't white brick, is a pale cream plaster. The bed is too soft. There's an IV in my arm. I reach down to pull it out, but Sode places her hand on my wrist.

"Don't. It's just medicine. It's not a sedative. I told them not to give it to you."

"Why?" I ask. "And where am I?"

"The hospital wing. In Seireitei. This is where all the patients with major illnesses go."

"Hah!" I laugh, "Aren't we all mad here, Sode?"

She purses her lips at that. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah." I lean my head back and close my eyes, trying to relax. My lids snap open as soon as I see sparks and gold eyes behind them.

"What happened, Sode? After the… accident, I mean."

She sighs deeply. "They were giving you a sedative since you were screaming and causing such a commotion. You got all the patients riled up, by the way. Once they gave you the sedative, you became completely paralyzed. It was only supposed to calm you down, Rukia, I swear. But then you didn't respond at all, and your heart was barely beating." She pauses, seeming unsure to go on.

I nod at her. Keep going.

"The security in the room decided to just pick you up and carry you to the hospital, to figure out what was going on. Then you started having spasms, like you were being pushed back by some imaginary force. I saw it all, Rukia."

"You were there?" I interrupt to ask.

"Of course I was there! Anyway—" She swallows hard. "Once they reached the hospital wing, your heart stopped beating completely. They were trying to bring you back to life for at least ten minutes, Rukia." She looks at me with sad eyes, and then looks away. "But then… It was so weird, Rukia… Ichigo was escorted into the room. He was supposed to be getting a physical from a doctor, because they hadn't done it when he first came to Seireitei. He heard everybody shouting your name, trying to bring you back to life. He started screaming your name too, and broke free of his guards. He kneeled over you, and grabbed your hand. Then your heart started beating again." She finishes her story.

"Is Ichigo okay?" I whisper, trying to remember Ichigo as how he really is. A sweet, kind - okay, he's messed up- but a young seventeen year old boy who is sick. Not a psychopathic nightmare. Literally.

"They had to sedate him." She says. He's in his room now. They finally released him from 'The Box," as you patients call it. He's still under 24/7 surveillance though."

"Does he know I'm alive?"

"He felt your pulse, didn't he?"

I smile. Everything seems okay.

But then I remember that it's not. It was my family's fortune that brought Kurosaki into this mess. I'm the reason he's here. I need to tell him. He deserves to know…

God, he'll hate me.

"Can I… Can I talk to him?" I ask. I look up at Sode with puppy dog eyes, trying to convince her that I need to do this.

"I'll ask Yamamoto." She gets up and leaves, disappearing through a white sheet curtain that surrounds my bed, blocking me off from the rest of the patients in the hospital wing.

I sit in silence until she comes back a few moments later. "Yamamoto said no."

I look down at my hands, disappointed.

Sode sighs. "Just… don't tell anyone okay?"

I perk up, and smile at Sode. She's not a half-bad lady. She carts in the television behind her, and turns it on. Then she leaves again, letting me have my privacy. I know she's going to watch the taped version of this conversation later, but I don't really care. I'm going to do it. I'm going to tell him. He deserves to know.

His face lights up on the screen and every piece of my courage tears apart and sets itself on fire.

He says—"Hi."

"Hey." I can't tell him. There's a long pause, and neither of us are talking.

"Say something." He speaks, breaking the silence. He's not in The Box anymore, just like Sode said. He's in a white room, his face illuminated by bright white lights. I see the shadow of a guard by his bed, oh yeah, 24/7 surveillance. He looks tired. He must have just woken up from the sedative they gave him. Would he have held my hand, and cried out my name, if he knew I was the reason he was crazy? Psycho?

"Um…" My eyes drift off, away from the screen. I can't even look at his boyish face without feeling guilty.

"What is it?"

I bite my lip.

"Fuck you, Rukia. Speak. Don't go all silent on me."

"I'm sorry, Ichigo." I whisper. I feel the waterworks coming on. My vision gets blurry. He would never forgive me if I told him.

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo shouts. He looks so confused. "…Rukia?"

"I said I'm sorry!" I exclaim.

"What for?"

I shut the television off.

He'll never know.

~.~.~.~.~

She shut the television off. She shut it off? Why would she do that to me?

"Looks like Ms. Kuchiki doesn't want to talk to you," Says the guard standing by my bed.

"Fuck off." I spit at him. He just rolls his eyes and holds back a comment that was surely meant to piss me off. "Stop standing by my bed like a pervert, you dick."

He steps a few feet away.

Why would Rukia shut me off? I don't have the answer. I'm racking my brain for one but nothing comes out. What could she possibly be sorry for? We met… what, three weeks ago? I thought everything was going pretty great. I hadn't gotten into any fights. I haven't… lost control… much. Zangetsu has been tolerable. She just brightens up the dark in my life. I'm like a lost traveler in the woods, in pitch black night, and she's the moon whose light brings me home. God, what am I going on about? I'm not some sappy lover boy.

I'm in an asylum. I belong here, not in some Shakespeare play.

"Time for sleep." The guard says, and walks towards the door. "Don't even think of trying anything stupid. You got ten guards just outside your door. Which is locked securely, by the way."

I glare at him.

He smiles, almost like he's mocking me. "Good night, Mr. Kurosaki."

He leaves, the door shut firmly behind him. An annoying beep follows shortly after, which pisses me off. Why do they have to make it beep? I know the door is locked. I'm not going anywhere.

Without Rukia's voice, or memories of a conversation, and I can't stay awake. Usually I have something to distract my mind with, so I won't go to sleep. So I won't dream. The sedative they gave me before was too strong, so I didn't dream, thank God. No I'm afraid to even close my eyes.

What if _he's_ in my dreams?

This is the time of night where I would just think of the conversation I had with Rukia earlier, digest it, remember her every laugh and precious syllable. But she cut our conversation short, and all I remember are her eyes filling with tears. I almost want to sleep just to get rid of the pain of seeing her so unraveled, and emotional.

Rukia hardly ever got like that. She was a Kuchiki, and she said that Kuchiki's are tough stuff to break.

Rukia was my broken china doll. I didn't want to see her that way. This thoughts are so confusing, this emotions. I punch the pillow under my head and close my eyes.

I guess I'll just sleep, dammit.

/

**A/N: CAN YOU SENSE A DREAM SEQUENCE COMING UP? I DOOOOO. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter. Even though it's pretty depressing. I know. It made me a little sad to write it. Wahhhh. On another note:**

**You. Guys. Are. Awesome. I got an AMAZING response to the last chapter. It was like, the most reviews I've gotten for one chapter ever. 110 reviews! That's a whole fucking lot! Shoutout to ****Melibells**** for the 100****th**** review! ****Melibells**** will get a preview to the next chapter (once I write it… I kinda do these chapters in one sitting) and maybe even some secret clues to… THE REASON FOR RUKIA'S INSANITY MUHAHHA. Oh my God I'm actually crazy.**

**Fancy that. **

**You guys are awesome. I'm giving away a shoutout/prize to the 150****th**** reviewer.**

**See you next time, and, as always, have a good one.**

**-Liym Enello**


	12. Episode 12: The Mind of Macbeth

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 12: The Mind of Macbeth

/

Sleep is so bizarre. You can never really remember the precise moment you fell asleep. It happens, and then you're just gone. Out of this world. Almost like you're dead, or something.

* * *

><p>In this dream, I'm in reality. Not some fantasy outside of Seireitei's walls. I'm being led down a long white corridor, surrounded by guards on all sides. There seems to be even more of them surrounding me, choking my personal space like the neck of a screaming young girl. The corridor seems even longer than usual.<p>

There's lots of shouting coming from the end of the hall. I ignore it. Not my business. Not my problem. The guards push into me further, leaving me hardly any room. I push back against them, but they're hard as stone. Shit.

"We are taking you to the hospital wing to receive your physical, Mr. Kurosaki," Says a guard in a monotone that can only be heard in dreams.

I don't question this at all. Because I'm dreaming, and when you're dreaming, everything seems okay. You just go with it, without question.

"Okay."

We finally reach the end of the hall, and the shouting has grown louder.

"Jesus… Breathe!" Shouts a woman.

"Her heart hasn't beat in three minutes," Another states nervously.

Someone shouts: "Rukia!" I recognize that voice. It's Rukia's therapist, Sode no Shirayuki. She's trying to break free of the doctors surrounding Rukia's cold, lifeless body on a metal gurney.

Rukia's…. dead?

"No!" I scream, and try to push past the wall of guards. They don't budge. Their S.W.A.T. shields keep me in place. I can see my reflection in the shiny plastic. It's the face of a deranged soul. His eyes are hollow, and sunken in with madness. He needs a shave, there's stubble growing in awkward patches around his face. The orange hair around his head is disheveled, and tangled. There's a crazed look in his eyes, like a mix determination and rage. I hardly recognize myself.

"Rukia!" I shout again. I can't move. The guards won't let me out. I just need to hold her hand. If I hold her hand, and tell her everything will be alright, then maybe it will be. "Rukia!"

"Let me help you." Comes a voice from behind me. It's the man I killed. He's covered in blood, from head to toe. His white lab coat is dripping with it. The blood seeps down to the floor, and covers his muddy black shoes. "I can give you the power to rid yourself of these men."

"Ulquiorra…" I whisper in horror.

He reaches behind his back and pulls out the metal torture device. It's sizzling and sparking with lightning and torment.

"No…" Whimpering, I lean back against the guards. I'm cowering under Ulquiorra's teal-eyed gaze.

He strides towards me, and before I can stop him, he places the metal helmet onto my head. It seems to sink in and attach to my skull. I'm shocked with the lightning, writhing on the ground. Thrashing. Uncontrollable. I can't feel my arms, or legs. I'm losing my sight, everything is going dark.

I'm losing control of myself. I'm about to scream, telling everybody to run and get away before I hurt them. Kill them. Rip them apart. I can't stop myself. I'm... I'm…

I black out, and I know everybody's as good as dead.

When I open my eyes, I'm covered with gore. I'm lying on the hard tiled ground, which is warm with blood. It stains my skin and gets under my fingernails. I groan, and stand up. My head feels light. I sway on my feet a little, and take a look at my surroundings.

Blood. Blood everywhere. There are guards dashed in every direction, some of them unrecognizable with the beating they took. Some limbs are missing. A few have their guts spilling out of them and tangling in a heap on the floor. I search for Rukia's body, expecting the worst. The only comfort I have is knowing she was probably already dead before I got to her.

I turn over bodies, looking for her slight frame. I find nothing.

"Ichigo?"

I whirl around, and there's Rukia, wearing a little white dress, standing in the middle of the room barefoot. The blood swirls around her feet.

"Did you do this Ichigo?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I… Yes." I hang my head, unable to look at her. "Are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of what you are… I'm afraid of what you did." She says, her voice raising an octave.

I look up, my amber eyes glued to her violet hued ones. "Rukia—I'm so sorry."

She crosses her arms and ignores my apology. "What a mess…" She sashays her hand through the air, indicating the gory mound of bodies I left behind. "I don't think we should talk to each other anymore Ichigo." She states, as if she was talking about the weather. Her tone is almost bored.

"What? Why?" I ask, and walk towards her, panicking. "Rukia?"

"I have to go." She turns on her heel and walks away.

"No!" I run up behind her, and grab her shoulder. She twists around. Her violet eyes are angry.

"Don't touch me!" She says, and wipes my hand off her shoulder like it was a disgusting insect.

"Please," I beg, "Don't leave me."

"This is goodbye, Ichigo." She narrows her eyes at me, and turns to walk away from me again.

I'm angry. So angry. I grab her by the neck. "I told you, you can't leave me!" I scream, and shake her. Rukia's eyes go up into her head, and I can't see her beautiful purple irises that I love so much. All I see is white.

"Stay with me, Rukia. You can't just walk away!" Her neck is trapped in my grip. She can't breathe, I know it, but she just doesn't understand. She can't leave. Not after all we've been through. I shake her more.

Her neck snaps. Rukia goes limp in my arms. She's dead.

* * *

><p>I wake up and punch the pillow by my head immediately with rage. It feels good, so I hit it repeatedly, trying the get the image or Rukia's broken neck out of my system. I can almost hear the crunch when her neck snapped in my dream… feel the bone breaking in my hand. It felt real. The whole dream felt real.<p>

The urge to see Rukia in her current state, unharmed, and safe, is so overwhelming. I want to call out to someone, tell them to bring me a t.v., or something, just to see her face and make sure she's okay.

"Damn it all." I say, and put my arms under my pillow to support my head. My breath comes out in a frustrated huff. Maybe I'll ask if I can go to the Eating Space tomorrow, and have breakfast with her. I'm sure that they won't let me, but it doesn't hurt to ask. I'll beg if I have to.

I spend the remainder of the night contemplating my dream, and what it means. I've heard that dreams can be insights to the future. I shiver at the thought, and pull the bed sheets tighter around me. I feel like Macbeth, who went crazy with guilt after killing so many people for the throne.

Hah, I'm already crazy. I should change my name to Macbeth. Macbeth Kurosaki.

It has a certain ring to it.

* * *

><p>I stay up the rest of the night, and watch my room slowly come to life. The sun's light penetrates through the sunroof, bathing my room in hues of purple and gold. It's lovely. A fresh sight to the usual drabby white walls of Seireitei. I've always liked the sun. Sunrise, sunset…<p>

"Good-morning, Mr. Kurosaki!" Squeaks a woman as she comes through the door. Two guards trail behind her. She looks familiar. Auburn hair. Blue eyes. Huge tits. It's Rangiku-san.

"Yo, Rangiku-san." I smile at her. I haven't seen her in a couple weeks. She blushes, and pushes a cart full of things into the room.

"I told your guards that they shouldn't have to restrain you when I give you your medicine." She states, filling up a needle with clear liquid. "Will you be a good boy for me? Please?" She winks at me. "I don't want them to have to strap you down." Rangiku says suggestively.

"I'll be good." I flash a pearly white smile at her. She nods, a twinkle in her eyes. I furrow my eyebrows. This is weird—shouldn't she hate me? I used her as a human shield and stole her security pass, knocking her into a few guards in the process. She probably got in trouble or something… Or just assigned to tend to me every day. I smile at the fact that I could be a punishment for this poor nurse. Oh well.

She walks over to my bed. I sit up, and hold out my arm. The guards in the room tense up, but otherwise stay where they are. Rangiku taps the needle, to make sure all the air bubbles are out, and slides it into a protruding vein in my forearm. She empties the needle and then puts it into a little plastic hazard bag. She hands it to one of the guards and he leaves to throw it away.

"Alright, ready for your day?" She asks.

I nod. "Can I go have breakfast in the Eating Space?" It's worth a shot.

"Why?" Rangiku asks out of curiousity.

"I want to have breakfast with Rukia Kuchiki."

Rangiku purses her lips in thought. "Wait one moment," She leaves the room, along with the guard. The door locks behind them.

I wait for a few minutes, and then she returns. She looks sad. Dammit.

"I'm afraid it's a no, Mr. Kurosaki."

"Oh." I frown.

"Rukia will be staying in the hospital wing for a couple days anyway. She wouldn't be at breakfast."

"Is she alright?" I ask suddenly, worried for Rukia.

"Yes, Ms. Kuchiki is fine. We're just running some tests to see why her heart stopped so suddenly. She's also a bit weak from her episode and shouldn't be moved around." Rangiku says. "We don't want to exert her."

"Will I be able to visit her? In person?" I ask.

"No, I don't think so, Mr. Kurosaki." Rangiku states sadly. "You'll be lucky to have your television sessions, too. Rukia needs her rest. I suggest that you let her have it."

"Fine." I pout. "But what am I supposed to do all day?"

"Your guards are going to escort you to a therapy session with Dr. Zangetsu after you've eaten. That's what your schedule says, anyway…" Rangiku consults a chart on her cart. "Yup. That's pretty much all you have planned for today."

"Ugh." I groan, and collapse back onto my bed, throwing a pillow over my face.

"I'll take that as my cue to go," Rangiku mutters, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. It beeps annoyingly, reminding me that it's locked. Bastard.

It's going to be a shitty day.

* * *

><p>After I ate the breakfast which was brought into my room by some unidentifiable wench, I was escorted to Zangetsu's office. He sat in the same high-backed white granny chair. I slid into the one opposite him. He was sipping something from a baby blue teacup. I saw him—somewhat discreetly—slip out a metal flask from his vest pocket and pour it into his cup. It was clear, and smelled delicious, even from my place across the room.<p>

Peach Vodka.

The bastard.

He was just tempting me, I knew it.

"So, Ichigo, what's your favorite color?" He asks casually, resting a foot on his knee.

I roll my eyes at him. "Are we always going to start our sessions this way?"

"Yes. I find it as a good ice-breaker."

I chuckle. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say." I cross my arms. They haven't handcuffed me, which is a relief. I know that I still have a gun trained to my head somewhere, but I'm used to it. It doesn't bother me much.

"So?"

"So what?" I ask.

It's Zangetsu's turn to roll his eyes. He probably thought I couldn't see it, because his glasses are tinted, but I did. "So what's your favorite color?"

"It's still violet," I say, without hesitation.

"Are you and Rukia still talking?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and taking another swig from his cup. He sets it down on an end table so he can write scribble something in his notebook.

"Yeah. It's part of Rukia's therapy. Isn't it a part of mine, too?"

"I guess so." Muses Zangetsu, putting a finger to his chin. "I don't watch the tapes, though."

"Why?"

"Because it is not a therapy tool I wish to use. I prefer face-to-face interaction."

"But I'm such a dick to you!" I chuckle, slightly, my shoulders shaking.

"True," Zangetsu cracks a smile. "But that doesn't really matter to me. I'm here to talk about _your_ feelings, not mine."

"Touché." I laugh.

"So, Ichigo," He steeples his fingers. "How would you describe your relationship with Rukia?"

That cuts my laugh off short. My relationship? With Rukia?

"How the hell should I know?" I mutter, crossing my arms.

"Oh, sometimes I forget that you're a teenager," Zangetsu snickers. "You never admit your feelings, for one, but you also can never understand the dynamics of a relationship…"

"Not true!" I shout. "Rukia and I… are… friends." I think that sums up our relationship. Right?

"Okay, okay." Zangetsu holds his hands up. "I think I believe you. But are you sure it's not something _more_?"

"Rukia is twenty-one years old Zangetsu." I state, even though sometimes I forget that she's that old. She has such a young spirit, even if it's hidden under all those layers of madness and Kuchiki coldness. "You sound like my father." I roll my eyes. My dad had always nagged me on having grandchildren. Perverted old bastard.

"Do I?" Says Zangetsu. "Tell me about him."

"Um, he's an okay dude." I say, turning my eyes away from him and training them on the floor. "He kicked me out of the house, but I don't blame him. I was a bad influence to my sisters. He helped me out with money when he could, but I would blow it on drugs and stupid shit like that. I ended up on the streets."

Zangetsu furrows his eyebrows. "I didn't realize your drug use was that serious."

"Well, it was."

"When did you stop taking drugs?"

"Technically—never. The nurses give me drugs every day." I say, mocking him a little. I remember Rangiku from this morning, giving me my daily dose of… whatever it was.

"You know what I mean. Marijuana. Cocaine."

"It was meth, actually. I was a meth addict."

Zangetsu's eyebrows furrow further. "I see… So when did you come clean? You haven't had withdrawals since you came to Seireitei, so I can assume that you're off them."

I chuckle darkly, my eyes flashing gold for a brief, infinitesimal moment. "I stopped needing drugs the day I became a murderer."

Zangetsu, after many moments of silence, tells me that we've talked enough for today. I'm escorted back to my room with a heavy feeling in my chest.

* * *

><p>

**A/N: Hellooooooooooo readers! I'm back with another update! Aren't I speedy? :D **

**Special Thanks for all the positive reviews towards the last chapter, each and every one of them made me smile. I'm sorry if I wasn't able to respond to all of them, but believe me when I tell you that they all hold a special place in that one organ that pumps blood in my chest. **

**Anyway—please review, review, review! **

**150****th**** reviewer gets a prize. It could be YOU. **

**As always, have a good one.**

**-Liym Enello**


	13. Ep 13: The Past Interlopes the Present

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 13: The Past Interlopes the Present

/

I'm escorted back to my room, a strange tug nagging at my heart. Sometimes I forget I'm a murderer. The dreams remind me that Ulquiorra is dead, buried, in the ground, but not the fact that my actions caused his death. That is was my hands, my rage, that ended his miserable, sadistic life.

But life always seems to balance itself out.

He ended mine.

~.~.~.~.~

I pace my room for an hour. I was thinking about Rukia. Is she okay? Is she safe? Is she thinking about me? I groan, turn, and collapse on the bed. Absolutely helpless. I can't escape this room. I don't have a security pass. There are guards everywhere. The only window in my room is a skylight, ten feet up. I'm about to punch the white brick wall with my fist when I hear some shouting outside my door. It's a woman's voice, arguing with my guards. The heated conversation lasts many moments, and then Rangiku slips through my door, trying not to be noticed by the doctors and nurses outside. She closes the door behind her and sighs.

"Rangiku-san?" I ask, puzzled. I quickly rise from the bed and stand in the middle of the room with my hands tucked into my white sweatpants pockets. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Ichigo," She breathes.

"Can I help you?" I enquire. She looks a bit flustered. Her forehead gleams with a thin sheet of sweat and there's a wild look in her ice blue eyes.

"I'm not supposed to be here right now." Rangiku whispers. "Don't tell anyone."

"_Can I help you_?" I ask again, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her chagrin-soaked blush. She glares at me, angrily, probably because I made her embarrassed. Women.

"No, I don't need any of your help." Rangiku says curtly, slightly annoyed, "But I need to tell you something. Sit down."

I do as she asks, simply because Rangiku is a decent lady, and I'm generally curious as to what she has to say. "Alright, I'm sitting. What now?"

"Shut up and listen, Ichigo." She snaps. She walks over and stands by the edge of the bed, hands hovering over her hips. I raise my eyebrow at her, willing her to proceed. She takes a shaky breath, and then speaks. "I'm not really a nurse here at Seireitei."

"_What_?" I hiss. Rangiku quickly places an index finger on my lips to silence me.

"I said be quiet!" she seethes. "Like I said, I'm not really a nurse here. I work for Aizen."

I'm up on my feet before Rangiku has time to gasp. I clutch her forearms -with more strength than necessary. "That is a sick fucking joke, Rangiku-san!" I squeeze her arms hard, and I know that my eyes flash gold.

"It's the truth Ichigo! But, please, just listen to me!" Her pleading eyes, mixed with desperation and pain, overshadow my urge to rip her skinny body apart, and I loosen my grip slightly.

"I'm listening." I hiss through my teeth. "You have two minutes to explain."

She did. She told me about how she used to be a stripper in a famous club called Hueco Mundo. She met a strange white-haired man while she was dancing there, who paid a large sum of money to "be" with her. Rangiku had accepted the money, and they headed off to a private room in the back of the club. While she was busying herself with his pant zipper, he stopped her hand by grabbing her wrist. He said "I'm not paying you for that," and Rangiku backed away immediately, questioning the man's intentions. He said, "I need someone like you, who won't be traced or looked for, to do something for me." The white-haired man offered Rangiku triple the amount of money offered to work for him and his boss, Aizen. Her job was to infiltrate Seireitei Asylum with a fake master's degree in medicine and retrieve Ichigo Kurosaki. Her job was to bring me back to Aizen, so he could finish what he started.

"Aizen knows I'm here?" I gulp, sweat perspiring on my forehead.

"Of course he does, darling." Rangiku rolls her eyes. "You've been all over the news since you murdered Dr. Ulquiorra."

I flinch, remembering the crime I committed.

"He knows exactly where you are. It was my job to sneak you out of Seireitei, pretending that I meant to help you escape the asylum. He gave me this—" she reaches into a pocket in her nurse outfit. She pulls out a long vial filled with golden liquid. "To temporarily paralyze you, and bring you back to him. He wants to make you a killing machine." She shudders.

"I already am a killing machine." I whisper, numb from this new information about my past nightmares.

"A _controllable_ killing machine." She says, "That was his purpose all along. He had hired Ulquiorra to build the machine that made you… like _this_." She gestures at me in all my violent glory.

"Why," I swallow, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I only accepted the job because I really needed the money and he paid me half of it up-front. I didn't even think about why he would want you. But then I met you, Ichigo. You are just a sick little seventeen year old boy. I felt so guilty. I just couldn't do it. I could never give you up to Aizen."

I release my vice grips on Rangiku's wrists, and back away, slightly shocked, mostly terrified. "What will Aizen do when he finds out you've failed?" I ask.

"I don't know…" Rangiku tears up. I have the urge to pat her shoulder, and tell her everything will be okay, but I know it isn't. She's as good as dead.

"Rangiku?"

"Yes?" she tear-filled eyes penetrate mine. She crosses her arms uncomfortably.

"Thank you for telling me," I say, deeply grateful that she hadn't decided to just drug me and throw me back into Aizen's clutches. "It means a lot."

Rangiku's tears spill over, and she turns to walk out of the room. She stops just in front of the door. "I have to leave Seireitei, Ichigo." Her pale hand grasps the doorknob but she doesn't open it. She seems to be contemplating something. Rangiku runs a hand through her hair and sighs. "Tell your guards that I just came in here to tell you I'm quitting, alright? Tell them that I grew attached to you, which is partially true anyway."

I can't see her face but I know that there's a small, sad smile on her lips.

"Be safe, Rangiku-san."

I see her head bobbing with a nod. She sniffles, and then takes her security pass out from a side pocket and swipes it across a black panel set in the wall. She opens the door, and slips out without another word.

~.~.~.~.~

I haven't seen nor heard of Rukia since Rangiku left.

That was three days ago.

I spent most of my time pacing my cell, eating the food brought to me, and having therapy sessions with Zangetsu. I haven't slept in three days either; it's taking a toll on my body. Without any conversation with Rukia, it's impossible for me to fall asleep. If I talk to her, I don't get nightmares. If I don't talk to her, they come with a vengeance.

So, of course, it surprises me when Sode no Shirayuki, Rukia's therapist, glides through the door with aggravating enthusiasm. She reminds me of that one annoying cousin you just can't get rid of at family reunions.

"Ichigo!" she squeaks, "How lovely to see you!"

"Che," I fall onto my white bed and slap an itchy pillow over my face.

"Stop being a douche!" Sode snaps, and puts her hands on her hips.

"Mnnnerrrmmm," comes my reply.

"Don't be so glum! I've got good news for you."

"Pfft."

"It's about Rukia."

I get up into a sitting position, getting a hard glare for Sode. I clutch the pillow in my hands nervously. "Is Rukia okay?"

"Don't look so worried, Ichigo," she says, "I said it was _good_ news."

"Hah, sorry Sode," I mumble. "I'm not really used to good news."

Sode gives me a deep, but brief, look of pity before putting on her usual chipper face. "Rukia has fully recovered from her episode, and she's able to go to the Eating and Activity Space. Although, I don't think she's ever been to the Activity Space… anyway, she's able to continue with her therapy sessions."

I perk up. "I can talk to Rukia, now?"

"Sure, hun, I'll get the T.V." Sode leaves the room with a beep of the door.

I smile to myself. I finally get to talk to Rukia. It's been four days since I've seen her face. Then I remember:

"_Hi.__"_

_"Hey." _

_"__Say something__." _

_"Um…" _

_"__What is it?__"_

"…"

_"__Fuck you, Rukia. Speak. Don't go all silent on me__."_

_"I'm sorry, Ichigo." _

_"__What are you talking about?__" … "__Rukia?__"_

_"I said I'm sorry!"_

_"__What for?__"_

I flinch at the memory of our last conversation. She had shut the T.V. off. Cutting me out of her world. Did she even want to talk to me? In a few minutes, which actually feels like a lifetime, Sode walks back into the room, totting a television behind her.

"She's very excited to see you," Sode says, out of breath from totting the television around the hospital. "I swear she is."

Sode is such a bad liar.

"It's a good thing Yamamoto didn't see me carting this around." She breathes, "He still doesn't want you guys to talk to each other, since Rukia just got out of the hospital wing."

"I see." I mumble, and sit on the edge of my bed, about two feet away from the television set at the end of it. Sode, with a flourish, turns on the television with the click of a buttons and then strides out of the room, leaving me and Rukia to our privacy.

The television buzzes, and then slowly fades into a bright white light, white walls, a white bed, and Rukia, who's sitting on it. Her legs are pulled up so her chin rests on her knees, her arms wrapped around them. Her violet hued eyes are sad, but otherwise tear-less. She looks a bit bedraggled, like somebody who just got out of the hospital. Go figure.

"Hello, Rukia." I say, almost timidly. Her presence feels a little awkward since our last debacle.

"Hey," she says, a sad tone echoing in her voice. She clutches her legs tighter, folding deeper into herself, like a shield.

"Are you okay?" I ask plainly.

"No," she answers. "Will I ever be when I'm in here?" She raises her arms up to indicate her room. Her arms slap back down to her knees.

"I guess not." I mutter, and awkwardly look away, down at the floor, for a brief second before my auburn eyes flick back up to her mauve ones. She looks incredibly guilty.

"It's all my fault, Ichigo…" her voice breaks twice. "It's eating me up inside. I can't take it anymore. It's killing me, I swear it is."

"Will you tell me?" I ask, remembering the disaster last time, when she refused to tell me.

"I…" she buries her head into her knees, hiding from me. She stays in that position for a few minutes. I just sit there, watching her shoulders rise and fall with each breath she takes in.

"Rangiku-san quit her job." I say, changing the subject. I'm not going to tell her about Aizen. I wouldn't want her to freak out, call me a monster, and never want to talk to me again. Does she know that I can't control my body? Does she know I'm a murderer? I pray with every fiber of my being that she does not know.

"Titty lady?" Rukia looks up. Her cheeks are streaked with tears.

"Yeah. She quit three days ago."

"How do you know?" Her eyebrows raise.

"Uh, she told me. When she was giving me medicine. I just thought you should know."

"Thanks." Rukia says, "she was a pretty decent nurse, I guess."

"Yeah…" I clear my throat.

"Ichigo, can I tell you a story?" Rukia asks suddenly, unfolding her legs so they stretch out straight in front of her.

"Of course, Rukia," I say, her name gliding off my lips like it belongs there. "You can tell me anything, I'll listen."

"Okay…" she says shakily. She wipes the tears from her eyes, takes a deep breath, and speaks. "There was this girl. She was framed, screwed over, and then left in the dust with nothing. An evil man took all her inheritance, and used it for evil on an innocent boy." Her shoulders shake. I'm afraid that she'll start crying again, but she doesn't. "The girl didn't know about it. But recently, the girl found out what that man did, and now she's feeling horrible. It's her money. Her fault. She knows the innocent boy too, the victim of evil. She likes him. Really really likes him. But she doesn't know how to tell him about what happened." She pauses. "What should she do?"

My scowl. What is Rukia talking about? "That's not a very good story." I say after a moment.

"Why not?"

"It doesn't have an ending." I mumble matter-of-factly.

"I know," Rukia says, "it just hasn't been written yet."

Then it comes to me. "You're the girl, aren't you, Rukia?"

She just nods her head, and buries her hands into her hair, full of inner turmoil.

"I'm the boy."

She starts to cry.

"And the man…" I drift off.

"Aizen." She blubbers through her tears. "It was Aizen."

I grab at my bed sheets, starting to feel the dark creeping up on me, waiting to strike and turn me into a monster. Aizen always seems to catch up with me.

"Che… So your money paid for my insanity?"

She looks up and nods. There seems to be a big weight off her chest. Her cheeks are now dry, as are her eyes. But there's a deep sadness in them.

"It's kind of ironic, isn't it?" She questions, and wipes her nose. "I'm the reason you're here –in Seireitei."

"You didn't know." I plead with her. I just want that sad look in her eyes to go away. It's not her fault that Aizen, somehow, took all her money. The money that paid Dr. Ulquiorra to torture me. "You didn't know." I repeat.

Rukia places her hand on the television screen, so it's pressed up against it, making her pale hand flat. I do that same, and place it just where her hand would be. It's almost like we're touching.

"I'm so sorry." She says.

"It's not your fault."

"I can't help feeling guilty."

"Don't be. I was stupid, and laying on the street, full of drugs. I was practically begging for Aizen to kidnap me. It could've been any other kid." I press harder onto the screen. "It's _his_ fault that I'm in here. _His_ intentions. _His_ plans."

Rukia smiles slightly, seeming somewhat assured.

We spend the next few hours talking about the usual random shit, and I go to sleep that night without a single nightmare to wake up to.

/

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Sorry that this update took forever. I've been pretty busy with the usual bullshit. School. Work. The whole shebang. I'm so grateful for all the positive reviews that The Ivory Tower is getting. It makes me so happy. Sorry if I wasn't able to respond to all of them.**

**[On another note, the 150****th**** reviewer prize will no longer be given out to only one person. I think its mean. So, in honor of Ichigo and Rukia's new understanding/connection with each other, I WILL BE GIVING OUT A PRIZE TO WHOEVER REVIEWS ON THIS CHAPTER. Each and every single one of you.]**

**[Reviews may be positive or flame, I don't care. I consider flame to just be good criticism, and I love criticism. It makes my writing better. So even if you bash my story, you still get a prize, haha(: but good reviews are always appreciated too.]**

**Chao!**

**-L.E.**

_Hishhh_


	14. Episode 14: The Reunion

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 14: The Reunion

/

The days seemed even slower without Ichigo, but time passed nonetheless. The few days that I didn't see him really took a toll on my mood, though. I was crabby, harsh, and hardly spoke a word to anyone. While I was in the hospital wing recovering from my accident, or whatever it was, they're still running tests—I spent most of my time in bed, staring at the wall.

Ichigo hated me. I was sure of it. I shut him out and that probably messed him up really bad.

So I was extremely surprised when Sode told me that I would be talking to him today. I was immediately apprehensive.

Sode places her hands on her hips and raises and eyebrow at me condescendingly.

"What do you mean _you won't talk to him_?" She says, trying desperately to keep her composure.

"I just can't face him, Sode. Ichigo hates me." I murmur, casting my eyes down to the floor.

"Oh please, that boy worships you. Besides, it's part of your therapy."

"Why can't we have a face-to-face therapy session with each other, Sode? This new television thing with Ichigo isn't going to work out."

"I did face-to-face therapy with you for five years, Rukia, and you didn't utter one word to me until Kurosaki came to Seireitei."

I didn't have a response to that one, because it was true. I just sigh. "Fine."

Sode gives me a genuine smile and then leaves. She doesn't come back for a while. I'm assuming she's with Ichigo, setting up his T.V. Another attendant comes in, one I don't recognize. It's probably a new recruit. He is very thin, has jet-black hair, and square glasses. He's dressed up in the usual assistant's garb of white scrubs and sneakers.

"Hello, Ms. Kuchiki." The man places his index and middle finger on the rim of his gray glasses to push them up his nose. "I'm Ishida Uryu. I'm replacing Abarai as your new escort."

"So Dr. Ukitake won't be escorting me anymore?" I say with an almost sad tone to my voice.

"I'm afraid not. Yamamoto told me that Dr. Ukitake has a lot of work to do. There was a breakthrough with his new medicine."

"Oh." I hug my legs tighter to my chest.

He gives me a nod, and then carts in the television. He turns it on and then leaves with a hushed goodbye.

Ichigo's face buzzes to life. "Hello, Rukia." He says, without his usual arrogance or splendor.

"Hey," I say, feeling really uncomfortable. I just want to get this conversation over with. I knew it was going to have to happen eventually. Telling him the truth. I put my chin on my knees.

"Are you okay?"

"No," I answer, feeling somewhat sorry for myself. "Will I ever be when I'm in here?" I decide to raise my arms up to indicate my room/cell, and how confined I am. What I wouldn't give to be free… in the colored world.

"I guess not." He looks down into his lap, but his soft hazel eyes quickly snap up and connect with mine. I find it difficult to breathe.

"It's all my fault, Ichigo…" My voice breaks. "It's eating me up inside. I can't take it anymore. It's killing me, I swear it is." The truth. I have to tell him the truth.

"Will you tell me?"

"I…" I can't tell him. I can't! I put my head in my knees to hide from him. If I don't look at him then I feel less guilty… but I have to tell him… no I don't… yes I do… I feel quiet tears streaming down my cheeks. I can't live with the guilt.

"Rangiku-san quit her job." Ichigo speaks suddenly. My head snaps up to meet his gaze.

"Titty lady?"

"Yeah. She quit three days ago."

"How do you know?" Rangiku is gone?

"Uh, she told me. When she was giving me medicine. I just thought you should know."

Oh.

"Thanks." I say, "She was a pretty decent nurse, I guess."

"Yeah…" Ichigo clears his throat, and the conversation has shifted back into its awkward stage. I should just tell him. Open your mouth, Rukia!

"Ichigo, can I tell you a story?" Maybe if I don't tell him directly, it won't hurt as much.

"Of course, Rukia," He whispers my name. Words glide off his tongue like butter. "You can tell me anything, I'll listen."

"Okay…" I wipe my cheeks of the wet evidence. "There was this girl. She was framed, screwed over, and then left in the dust with nothing. An evil man took all her inheritance, and used it for evil on an innocent boy." I'm shaking. Oh God, I'm shaking. Will he see? I continue: "The girl didn't know about it. But recently, the girl found out what that man did, and now she's feeling horrible. It's her money. Her fault. She knows the innocent boy too, the victim of evil. She likes him." I pause, but decide that it's better to confess everything, "Really really likes him. But she doesn't know how to tell him about what happened." I pause. "What should she do?"

"That's not a very good story." He muses.

"Why not?" It's a damn good story.

"It doesn't have an ending."

"I know," I sigh, "it just hasn't been written yet."

Ichigo furrows his brows, seeming to contemplate something. "You're the girl, aren't you, Rukia?"

Oh shit. I nod to him, and bury my head in my knees again.

"I'm the boy."

God, I can't help it. The tears in my eyes well without my consent.

"And the man…" He leaves the sentence hanging in the air, just waiting to be answered.

"Aizen." I look up and sob, "It was Aizen."

His face. He looks angry. I knew he would hate me, I knew it. I grab onto my bed sheets, using them as an anchor. His eyes flash gold so quickly I would've missed it if I had blinked.

"Che… So your money paid for my insanity?" His eyes are back to normal. His face isn't contorted. In fact, there's a serene look gracing his features. He looks calm. Collected. He looks like the Ichigo I know. I give him a small smile.

"It's kind of ironic, isn't it?" I wipe my nose. "I'm the reason you're here –in Seireitei."

"You didn't know." He pleads. "You didn't know."

In a sudden fit of emotion, I place my hand on the television screen. He does the same. It looks like our hands are touching. There's a tenderness in his deep brown eyes that I can't explain. But I feel the need to say one more thing…

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." He says.

"I can't help feeling guilty."

"Don't be. I was stupid, and laying on the street, full of drugs. I was practically begging for Aizen to kidnap me. It could've been any other kid. It's _his_ fault that I'm in here. _His_ intentions. _His_ plans."

He never told me about the drugs before. Or his kidnapping. It could have been someone else, not him. It was Aizen's fault. All his fault. I smile to Ichigo. This conversation went better than I expected, considering I expected him to demolish the television in a raging fit and never speak to me again.

It's a fucking relief.

So we talk. Because what's good therapy without a little mindless banter? Eventually, when the clock is ticking close to four, we sign off, and I go to sleep.

Nobody comes in to restrain me.

~.~.~.~.~

I wake up, my back, arms, and legs straight as an arrow. Huh. My body must just be used to the restraints. I sit up, and wait for an attendant to see me. One does, and I go through my daily shit. Sedative. Pants. Shirt. Sneakers. I showered yesterday, no, there's no need for it today. The person leaves, saying that Ishida will be back to escort me to breakfast.

The fucking routine again. Ugh, I'm going to kill myself. I don't know how but, I'll find a way to do it. I mill around in those dark thoughts for a while until Ishida knocks and then enters the room with grace and poise.

"You… knocked?" I question, tilting my head to the side.

He clears his throat and pushes his glasses up, seeming uncomfortable. "Yes…"

"Seriously, dude, people hardly ever knock. This _is_ an asylum you know." I smile to myself. "There's no secrets here."

"Sorry, Ms. Kuchiki. I'll remember to just barge right in next time." He says it in monotone, but I know he's being sarcastic. I like him already.

"Fine, whatever."

"This way, Ms. Kuchiki." He gestures for me to follow him.

"Good Lord, Ishida. I know where the Eating Space is. I've only been living here five years…" my voice drips with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Kuchiki, I didn't know."

We head towards the Eating Space. I decide that I like Ishida, so I grant him the gift of my voice.

"So when did you start working here?" I question.

"A few days ago. I was in training those three days, and now here I am."

"I see. Why do you want to work here?"

"I like helping people." He sniffs and pushes his glasses farther up his nose.

"That's what everyone says…" I roll my eyes. We arrive at the Eating Space and he lets me in with his security pass.

"Have a nice breakfast." I nod to him, my bangs flopping in my eyes. I brush them away, somewhat annoyed. I grab my usual apple and juice, and sit at my usual table in the far corner of the room.

And, as if I was expecting anything else, Ichigo barges into the room unannounced. He's accompanied by only four guards this time, about two-thirds less than his usual lunchtime watch.

"Ichigo!" I almost choke on my juice. He walks across the room to grab his food, and then catches sight of me at my table. He walks towards it.

"Hey, midget." Ichigo smiles, and slides down into the seat next to me.

"I thought that they would never let you back in here again!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, well, I've been on my _best_ behavior lately." He winks at me. I blush and pick at my apple, admiring its red exterior.

"Besides, they let Grimmjow back in here, didn't they?" He smiles, and takes a bite of eggs and buttered toast.

"Yeah, I guess they did." The edges of my mouth curl up a bit. "He's one crazy guy, so it only makes sense that they would let you back in here, too."

We eat for a while, just enjoying each other's company.

"It's really good to see you again, Rukia." He says.

I put my apple core down on my plate, and take a sip of juice. "What do you mean? I saw you last night, fool…"

"I mean _in real life,_ Rukia. Not a television." He reaches out and touches my hand. His fingers are rough, but warm. They feel nice. I almost pout when he draws his hand back and starts eating some other concoction.

"It's nice." I admit. I want him to touch me again.

Then the bell rings, signaling the end of breakfast.

Ichigo gives me a smoldering look. "I'll see you around, Kuchiki." The guards escort him out, but not before he throws a glance back at me over his shoulder and smiles.

~.~.~.~.~

She runs. Faster than she ever has in her life, but it's still not fast enough. Her auburn hair whips in the wind behind her. She's running in downtown Karakura, past the steams of people on their way home from parties, drinking, or whatever.

They don't even look at her. Her ice blue eyes fill with tears. She knows that if she shouts for help, she'll only be ignored. She pushes past the people roughly. They give her hard looks, but don't give her a second glance. She's just a whore, running away. Who cared?

She slips into an alleyway to catch her breath. She hadn't seen sight of Aizen for a few minutes. Maybe she lost him.

Rangiku had relocated to Karakura town, some thirty miles away from Seireitei. That's how far the cab took her for the money she had in her purse. She had decided to start over. She couldn't return to Hueco Mundo in San Jose, so she chose to work in Karakura Town. There was a small little joint called Rukongai, that needed some new entertainment.

They dressed her up in a leather corset, panties, and fishnets. She was just dancing and being sexy in the joint, giving lap dances, you know, the usual.

And that's when she saw him. It was Aizen. In her workplace. He had been standing just inside the door of Rukongai. Rangiku had squeaked, and pushed herself off of the guy she had been dancing with. She took off and ran out the back door before anyone could say "runaway whore".

That's how she got here.

Rangiku wretched in the alleyway, next to dried piss and rat pellets. She had had a few drinks before. That wasn't enough to get her drunk. Not even buzzed. Somebody must have slipped something in one of her martinis.

Rangiku wretched again, puking up an acidic green bile. She hadn't eaten anything that day. Only drinks at Rukongai were perks of her working there.

"Hello." Came a voice from behind her.

Rangiku whirled around at the sound of that hissing voice. Her head swirled, and she seems to be seeing two of everything.

"I… thought I lost… you." She murmurs, hardly able to control her speech.

"It was a good effort, I'll give you that."

Then she heard a loud bang, and felt a bullet blast through her chest.

/

**A/N: Eh... sorry about Rangiku. It was bound to happen, anyway.**

**Thank you guys so much for your positive reviews! They mean a lot. **

**The next update will contain some fluff and… confessions? There's a little clue, lol(:**

**Please review! It keeps me goin'!**

**Have good one,**

**-L.E.**


	15. Episode 15: The Dissimilar Scenery

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 15: Dissimilar Scenery

/

_"Ichigo!" I almost choke on my juice. _

_"Hey, midget." Ichigo smiles, and slides down into the seat next to me._

_"I thought that they would never let you back in here again!" I exclaim._

_"Yeah, well, I've been on my __best__ behavior lately." He winks at me. I blush._

_"Besides, they let Grimmjow back in here, didn't they?" He smiles, and takes a bite of eggs and buttered toast._

_"Yeah, I guess they did." The edges of my mouth curl up a bit. "He's one crazy guy, so it only makes sense that they would let you back in here, too."_

_We eat for a while, just enjoying each other's company._

_"It's really good to see you again, Rukia." He says._

_"What do you mean? I saw you last night, fool…"_

_"I mean __in real life,__ Rukia. Not a television." He reaches out and touches my hand. His fingers are rough, but warm. They feel nice. I almost pout when he draws his hand back and starts eating some other concoction._

_"It's nice." I admit. I want him to touch me again._

_Then the bell rings, signaling the end of breakfast._

_Ichigo gives me a smoldering look. "I'll see you around, Kuchiki." The guards escort him out, but not before he throws a glance back at me over his shoulder and smiles._

~.~.~.~.~

I watch Ichigo's retreating back, and wish that breakfast lasted just a little bit longer. I already missed his smirk. That certain glow in his eyes that only shows up when he's around me.

I sigh, and wait for Uryu to pick me up and escort me back to my room. He arrives about five minutes late, so I'm the only one left in the café when he gets here.

"My apologies, Ms. Kuchiki. I didn't realize the time…" He stands in front of my table awkwardly, with his arms crosses over his chest.

"It's cool, Uryu." I say, and rise from the table. He nods, and leads me out of the cafeteria.

Then I get an idea. If I want to see Ichigo again, why wait?

"Hey, Uryu…?"

He swivels his head to look at me over his right shoulder. "Yes, Ms. Kuchiki?"

"Since you were tardy, do you think you could do me a favor?" I ask innocently.

"A favor?" He stops in his tracks. I would've bumped into him if he hadn't turned around abruptly to face me, taking a step back in the process to give me space. He looked confused, like he didn't know if he was supposed to give out favors to patients. After a moment of silence, he spoke hesitantly. "What do… what do you need?"

"I was just wondering if you could lead me to the Activity Space, instead of my room."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. And if you could tell someone if they could escort Ichigo there as well?"

His eyebrows furrowed at that. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks Uryu." I give him a small smile. I wondered if he could possibly get into trouble because of this, but I pushed it out of my mind.

"Why a sudden change in schedule?" Uryu asked, "Yamamoto said that you have never been to the Activity Space since you arrived here five years ago."

"If you must know, Uryu, I'm very bored." I lie. "I would like to a change in schedule so I don't go crazy."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Crazier than I already am." I added.

"Alright." He huffed. "This way," his signaled for me to follow him, and I did. We went through a few passageways that I have never been to before, and approached a large metal door with a white plaque nailed to it. In bold black letters, it said: "Activity Space. Highly monitored."

He swipes his pass over a sensor and the door beeps. He opens it and leads me though. It's not the Activity Space, but a small foyer. There's a metal door.

"This space was made for extra security." Uryu states when he sees my confusion. "If you'll just wait here, I'll go fetch Mr. Kurosaki."

"Thank you, Uryu." I say, "You're the best escort I've had." I say almost bitterly when I remember the Abarai bastard. I clench my fists.

Uryu nods and leaves the room. The door automatically locks. He comes back about five minutes later, with Ichigo in tow. There are only two guards behind Ichigo this time. Wow, he must really be on his best behavior. The sight of him makes me smile.

"Hey." I say.

"Yo, midget." Ichigo smiles that crooked smile. I blush at the sight, and train my eyes on the floor to give my eyes a break.

"I've never been to the Activity Space before." Ichigo states plainly. I nod, and look up at him.

"Me either."

"Shall we?" He takes my hand in his. My heart drums in my chest at the feeling, and my breathing accelerates.

_This was _not _a good idea…_ My subconscious states matter-of-factly. _If you get too involved with this boy, he's going to be the death of you._

Shut up, subconscious. I brace myself when Uryu opens the door in the foyer that leads to the Activity Space. For some reason, I'm helplessly excited. Whether it's by holding Ichigo's hand, or the thought of discovering a brand new room in Seireitei, I'm not sure. I'll probably never find out.

…Which is why both Ichigo and I gasp when a scorching white light engulfs us both.

~.~.~.~.~

**= FIVE MINUTES AGO =**

A tall, willowy, black haired man enters my room with a beep of the door. He says that his name is Uryu.

"What do you want?" I ask curtly from where I'm lying in bed, thinking about breakfast this morning with confused and muddied thoughts.

_"What do you mean? I saw you last night, fool…"_

_"I mean __in real life,__ Rukia. Not a television." I reach out and touch her small, delicate, and porcelain-colored hand. It's soft… silky smooth. I start thinking of how amazing her hands would feel on my…_

_So I pull back my hand. _

_"It's nice." She says, while an adorable blush spots her cheeks._

I groan at the memory. What is it with this Kuchiki girl? She makes me feel so confused, and so happy, all at the same time… I break out of my reverie when the Uryu guy clears his throat.

"Ms. Kuchiki has invited you to go to the Activity Space with her, if you should so wish." He states.

I don't even hesitate. "Of course I'll go."

"Good. Follow me." He leads out into the hallway. There are only two guards trailing us, about a sixth of my usual security.

He leads me though all the labyrinths of Seireitei before we arrive at a simple metal door, he opens it with his security pass, and glides in, urging me to follow. I see Rukia, and my face immediately lights up at the sight. I tugging feeling that had been nagging at my chest the whole way here has suddenly dissipated.

She says, "Hey."

"Yo, Midget." I say. I look around the strange new room. "I've never been to the Activity Space before."

"Me either."

I smirk. "Shall we?" I remember her hands, how soft and welcoming they were. I push a few dark thoughts at the sight of them out of my mind, and take her hand with mine. Uryu opens the second door, and my eyes are raped by the brightest light I've ever seen. I hear a gasp coming out of Rukia's mouth, and mine as well. We walk toward the light, and a soft breeze hits us.

It smells like leaves and sunshine.

Then my eyes adjust, and welcome a beautiful sight. There is grass. Lots of it. And trees too, all of them full and green. Some even had apples on them. There are picnic tables set all around. Some patients sit in them, playing card or just talking. I few of them sunbathe in the grass. There is one guy, who's sitting by himself as far as possible, who is mumbling to himself. Crazy dude

"Amazing." I hear Rukia breath beside me. I tighten my grip on her hand when I see a single tear glide down her cheek. I raise my other hand, and swipe the tear away with my thumb, caressing her cheek for the smallest of moments before I force my hand back down to my side.

"Why are you crying?" I ask.

Her little fingers tighten around my hand even tighter. "This is the first time that I've been outside Seireitei in… in five years!" Her face breaks into the biggest smile I've seen since I arrived at Seireitei. My smile immediately follows hers.

We walk further outside. A few glances from the patients are thrown are way, but we pay them no mind. I notice that neither the guards nor Uryu followed us outside. In fact, they even closed the door, completely blocking us from their view. I raise an eyebrow as I look at the door.

"Why didn't they follow us?" I ask Rukia, who is nearly giddy with glee. She turns around to look at the door.

"I'm not sure."

And then I see the twelve-foot-tall chain link fence surrounding the Activity Space. We're still completely blocked in. No way out. Trapped. I stop in my tracks, clinging to Rukia's hand. She just sighs.

"I knew this was too good to be true." She says.

"Yeah." I mutter darkly. "At least we're outside, though. Right?"

"Yeah." She looks up at the sun, which is now at its noontime peak. "I've always loved the sun." she breathes, and let goes of my hand. She lifts her pale arms up to soak in the sun's rays. Her eyelids flutter closed. She looks absolutely peaceful and serene. Lovely.

"Really? I've always liked the moon." I admit.

"Why?" she asks, with her eyes still closed, her arms still raised to soak up the sun.

"I don't know…" I mumble, slightly embarrassed. I'm not usually one to talk about my opinion of the moon. "It's beautiful." I look at Rukia. She reminds me of the moon. "And it offers light on the darkest of nights."

"That's really beautiful." Rukia's violet eyes, that were so deep and full of meaning, reach mine. Our eyes lock.

The sun beats down on us, offering a heat on our skin that we haven't felt in such a long time. I feel so different. New. The violent thoughts that used to threaten every fiber of my being, that conquered every action, have started to slip away. Rukia makes me feel safe, in her own special way.

Her eyes are asking me for something, but I don't know what it is. So I just reach my arms out, and envelop her in a hug. She hums, and returns my hug greatfully. We've been through so much these past two weeks. Hugging her just feels right, like she belongs there, with her head against my chest and her arms encircling my waist.

The smell of the trees, and the ripe apples growing on them, the fresh grass, the hum of bugs and the music of birds, all the activity of the outdoors, contribute to the hope rising in my chest. Rukia is in my arms. She's mine.

Without a second thought, a place an index finger right under her chin. Her skin is as soft as rose petals. I tilt her face up to meet mine. Our eyes lock. They are doing that thing again, asking something of me. I smirk. I can feel her breathing accelerate. Her breath comes in short pants. I lean in, slowly, and place my lips onto hers. She sighs, and closes her eyes again. She starts moving her lips softly, timidly, against mine. I hum a little in my throat and place a hand on her hip to pull her closer to my body so it's flush against mine. I slowly close my eyes, and kiss her harder.

Rukia is in my arms. And I'm kissing her. She's mine.

~.~.~.~.~

_"I… thought I lost… you." She murmurs, hardly able to control her speech._

_"It was a good effort, I'll give you that."_

_Then she heard a loud bang, and felt a bullet blast through her chest._

_The force of the bullet sent her sprawling on the asphalt of the alleyway. She heard a dark chuckle, and the sound of feet crunching on gravel. Then she feels cold hands grabbing her ankles like a vice._

"_Gin."_

"_Yes, sir?" comes a reply._

"_Just leave her."_

"_Sir?"_

"_I said leave her." The man hissed. "There are some people coming this way. We need to leave."_

"_Yes sir." The cold hands let go, and she hears two pairs of footsteps retreating. _

_She tries to breathe. She really does. But blood fills her lungs and trickles down her mouth, making it almost impossible. She tries to cry out for help. She really does. But nothing but a soft gurgle escapes her throat. _

_She feels blood pouring out of the bullet wound. She can feet it, the scalding hot and thick liquid envelopes her chest, arms, and fingers. _

"_Oh my God… Chizuru, look!" A girl's voice shouts._

_Rangiku can't see. She's going into shock. Black spots dance across her vision. _

"_Holy shit! Is that a dead body?" a surprised squeal escapes from the second female. Then there's a light patter of footsteps, and a young, innocent girl peers over her. She's probably sixteen or seventeen, with long auburn hair and a comely figure._

"_Orihime!" shouts Chizuru, "What are you doing?"_

"_She's alive, Chizuru!" she screams, "She's breathing!"_

_Rangiku blacks out just before the girl says: "Call an ambulance!"_

_~.~.~.~.~_

_She wakes up in a hospital, with dozens of tubes sticking out of her arm, and thick gauze taped over her chest._

_What the hell happened?_

_Rangiku looks around. There's a loud "beep beep" coming from a monitor by her bed. It's the beat of her heart. _

_Beep beep beep beep beep!_

_The sound is louder, and faster, with the rapid beating of her heart. She's so confused, so scared. _

_A doctor hurriedly comes into the room when he recognizes the swift sound. "Ms… are you alright?" _

_A sudden pain pierces her chest when she tries to sit up. She falls back onto her hospital bed with a groan._

"_Please, don't try to exert yourself."_

_She responds with a whimper._

"_I'm Dr. Kurosaki." _

_Rangiku can't take it. Oh God, she just can't do this anymore. Was is it with the Kurosaki family and them thrusting themselves into her life? Fucking Kurosaki's…_

_She passes just when Dr. Kurosaki says—_

"_Can you tell me what happened to you?"_

_/_

**A/N: Yooo Readers! OMG ICHIGO AND RUKIA FINALLY KISSED LIKE OMG WHATTT. Haha. Sorry for being annoying. I get really giddy when I think about it.**

**Please review! Getting at least 200 reviews on this fic would be amazing! I love each and every single review, so don't be shy! Go for it!**

**I love you, and have a good one.**

**Liym Enello**


	16. Episode 16: The Blossoms of Belligerency

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 16: The Blossoms of Belligerency

/

His warm lips engulf mine—and it feels fantastic. I slowly run my hands through his surprisingly soft orange locks as our exchange of kisses builds momentum.

This is illegal.

So illegal.

He's a minor—seventeen—and I'm twenty-one. God, this isn't fair. He's such a good kisser. But I still pull my lips away slightly so I can breathe—"Ichigo, wait…"

"No," he murmurs against my mouth when he smothers me with more kisses.

"This is illegal, Ichigo!" I manage to gasp through his ravaging.

"Not for long," he finally pulls away, his lips delightfully red and swollen, and looks at me deviously—as if I'm a little eatable bunny, powerless against the famished wolf.

"What do you mean?" I say, and then moan minutely in my throat when his pink lips make their way down to the corner of my mouth… skim gracefully along my jawbone… across to my earlobe. He nips it, causing a shiver to wrack my entire body.

"Ichigo, we can't do this here." I state when I finally notice the other patients in the area gaping at us with wide eyes and O-shaped mouths.

He sighs with disappointment but disconnects his lips with my skin, only to take hold of my wrist to lead me away.

"Perverted fuckers," he mumbled to no one in particular, but the patients that were staring at us are not looking down at the ground embarrassingly and twiddling their thumbs.

The expanse of the Activity Space is actually quite large. We walked roughly ten minutes before we reached the edge of the yard where he was leading me. Ichigo sat down at the base of a huge apple tree, the largest in the area. There were apple blooms blossoming—it was beautiful. The scent of them practically made me high. Ichigo laid down, with his hands resting under his head, his white cotton shirt riding up a bit to reveal a fraction of his toned torso.

I gulped and my cheeks heated at the sight. He didn't say anything, but he looked so comfortable I couldn't help but copy him. I lay down on the soft grass beside Ichigo on my stomach, automatically kicking my sneakers and socks off so my toes could experience the fresh grass.

We lay there on the lawn in silence for a while. I sluggishly close my eyelids, letting the sun grace them with its warmth. I feel high. Ecstatic. I'm in the sun, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and lilacs. I'm lying next to an abused, damaged, and exceptionally beautiful and mystifying boy who just kissed me. Vehemently.

Everything is alright when Ichigo is around. Everything is gray and desolate when he's not. It would have been a perfect moment—if I hadn't been so confused. It's still illegal to be with him.

I leisurely open my eyes in order to catch a glimpse of him. I watch him do the same. We gaze into each other's eyes until Ichigo has a fit of bashfulness and averts his hazel orbs, a blush coating his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"I'm so confused." Say, breaking the peaceful stillness. "I want to like you, Ichigo. Well, I already do, but it's just not right for us to be together..."

"Babe," his eyes flick to mire again. He smirks. "We're in an asylum. What _is_ right or wrong in a place like this?"

"I don't know…" I admit. "But it's still—"

"Shh," Ichigo cuts me off with the softest kiss I've ever received. "My birthday is next week. We'll be fine. We're fine."

Is it strange of me that I thought that Ichigo was some kind of untouchable, immortal soul? Like he was forever frozen in his seventeen year old body and mind? That was how I had felt. Until now. Now Ichigo can be mine, and I'll be guilt free. I sigh out loud, feeling more content now then I have in a lifetime.

"Well that's a fucking relief. I haven't realized, until now, that we can be together..." I reach out and run a hand through his orange locks that shine in the golden sunlight. "I never realized my feelings for you were this strong, but now I've made peace with them. With you."

I pause. As you know, I've never really been one to talk. This declaration of… of whatever this was… was so foreign to me, but felt completely natural all at the same time. I decide to continue.

Ichigo, whose eyes had fluttered closed when I ran my hand through his hair, flicks his eyes open to look at me expectantly. He hasn't said a word. He doesn't need to. His eyes say everything. They're full of hope, serenity, and a small fraction of fear. Fear of rejection.

The same look must be mirrored in my eyes as well. I pull my fingers out of his hair to reach for his hand and take it, my fingers totally lost in his massive hand. He squeezes.

"Kiss me, Ichigo." I state simply. I've run out of words to say.

He smiles, and leans his neck forward to capture my lips.

"You're my medicine." He whispers against my mouth.

"And you're mine." I reply. He weaves his hands into my hair, and we stay in our perfect piece of time.

~.~.~.~.~

A couple hours later, Ishida comes out to tell us that our time outside is over. By the time Ishida had waltzed outside to carry us away, Ichigo and I had settled down, just deciding to lean back against the massive bark of the oak tree, holding hands. So it was good that Ishida hadn't marched in on use mid-makeout.

"It's time to go inside."

I look at Ichigo and raise my eyebrows. Ichigo just shrugs, and stands up, holding an arm out to help me up.

"Why?" I ask, brushing grass off my sweatpants and slipping on my socks and sneakers.

"It's time to see your therapist, Ms. Kuchiki. And Mr. Kurosaki-" Ishida turns to Ichigo. "There is someone here to see you."

Ichigo pales. I take hold of his hand and squeeze it tightly. Whatever it is—whoever it is—it mustn't be good. Ichigo looks so pale you could probably throw him out into the snow and never find him.

Ichigo gulps, hard, and slips his hand out of my grasp.

"I'll catch up with you later, Rukia." He says, his voice devoid of all emotion.

"Will I see you on the T.V. later?" I ask desperately.

"I don't think so, Rukia." He mumbles, and walks away briskly. I lose sight of him.

"Please, Ms. Kuchiki, follow me." Ishida says.

I nod, and follow Ishida without another word. The feeling of joy and bliss I had been experiencing earlier is completely gone—replaced with the feeling of uncomfortable reality.

/

**A/N: Hellooooo readers! Thanks for sticking with me all throughout this story. You guys are so patient and amazing! In my defense, I haven't had much time to write, because the end of the school year has caught me off guard with endless worksheets and projects… and shit. Ugh. But, this coming Wednesday, school will be OUT! Finally. I'll have tons of time to write, so expect longer and more frequent chapters!**

**Oh, and I'm going to start another fanfic! I'm not sure what the plot is going to be like yet exactly, but I can tell you that the title of the fic/story is "Smoking Hipsters". (: It will most likely be Ichiruki. But I might do a whole other show/movie/fandom… I just don't know yet.**

**P.S. – please review review review! :D**

**Have a good one.**

**-Liym Enello**


	17. Episode 17: The Dark Letters

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 17: The Dark Letters

/

I am led down a pristinely cleansed hallway by a couple guards who seem to have permanent scowls carved into their faces. They told me that someone had come in to see me.

When I had found out the truth about Rangiku—about her being one of Aizen's cronies—I knew she was as good as dead. I mean—who could fight him? He was powerful, almost above the law. He had lots of money now, and lots of connections. Stupid Rangiku… she shouldn't have run away.

For all I knew, Aizen had come here to pick me up personally. I'm sure he could pay off a few doctors to get his way. He made a fortune from Rukia's case, after all. The bastard.

"This way," a guard murmurs gruffly. He opens a white door, and leads me into a white tiled room. There's a single chair, facing a pane of glass with a speaker embedded into it. On the other side of the glass—

Orihime?

I gulp hard, half in relief that it isn't Aizen, the other half that I would have to face my ex-girlfriend.

"What are you doing here, Hime?" I ask as I sit down in my assigned seat cautiously, never taking my eyes off her.

She presses her hand against the glass, and bats her lashes at me. "I've been so worried about you, Ichigo!"

"Yeah, well, I'm fine." I say to her curtly, cutting off our eye contact by looking at the newly scrubbed floor. I hope that the bruises and cuts on my face have faded. I don't want her to cause any drama in my case. It would just be inconvenient to me.

"Are you sure?" She presses harder onto the glass, so hard that I'm afraid she'll break it.

"Yes, Hime…" I sigh.

"Really? I can cook you something to make you feel better—"

"I said I'm fine, Orihime." I practically hiss. God, she's so annoying. It's one of the reasons that I broke up with her in the first place. "Take your hand off the glass; you're giving me a fucking headache."

Orihime flinches at my use of profanity –ever the innocent one—and retracts her hand away from the glass. She sets her hand in her lap and casts her gray eyes downward.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo." She whispers.

Okay, so I feel a little guilty. She looks so sad. It's not _exactly_ her fault that she's extremely innocent-and infuriating. I use my thumb and index finger to pinch the bridge of my nose, an odd habit I picked up from my father when I'm annoyed. Then again, I always feel angrier when she's around. It's like she has the opposite effect that Rukia has on me. I exhale, and glance at Orihime.

"Is there any other reason you're here, or can I politely say goodbye now?"

Orihime blushes scarlet. "Oh, um… y-yeah." She digs into her bag, and pulls out an envelope with the my name scrawled over the top. "This is from, er, your dad. He wanted to visit you himself, but, um, he's been really busy at the hospital for the past few days…"

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"There was somebody who was shot in an ally in Karakura a few days ago." She says. "I actually found her, and, um, brought her to your dad."

"I see." I mumble, and pull my hand away from my face. "Who was she?"

"We don't know yet. She hasn't been conscious long enough to tell us her name."

I narrow my eyes. "She's still alive?"

"Barely."

I can't help but think that maybe—just maybe—it was Rangiku that Orihime found half-dead in an ally. I can only hope that she's alive. I would feel guilty if she died. If it wasn't for her, I would be in Aizen's clutches right now. A long and awkward silence passed in between Orihime and I. She starts to fidget in her seat, so I speak up.

"Why didn't my father just call me instead of writing some letter?" I ask and nod toward the envelope in Orihime's hands.

"Apparently, the hospital won't pick up his phone calls." She stands, and brushes off the tweed skirt she's wearing. She sniffs slightly, and I think that I've hurt her feelings in some way.

Tough titties.

"I think, um, that I'll go now… I-If you don't mind."

"Goodbye, Orihime." I brush her off. She nods glumly.

"I'll give the letter to one of the staff, okay?" she says before exiting the room, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

I stand and turn towards my guards. "When will I get that letter?"

"In a few hours." One of them says. "We need to pre-read the letter before it is delivered to you."

I furrow my eyebrows and scowl. "And why is that?"

"It's just procedure." The other guard grunts.

"Fine, fine." I say, and I let them lead me back into my room, praising whoever was watching over me up above had enough divine grace to let me live.

~.~.~.~.~

"How are you doing today, Rukia?" Sode asks and takes a delicate sip from her tea. "Last time I saw you, you were dead-set on thinking that Ichigo hated you, and now…." She takes another suggestive sip of her tea, giving me this all-knowing look and wriggling her thin eyebrows.

"So you know everything about us, don't you Sode?" I say, a blush speckling my cheeks, my eyes cast downward.

"Of course I do, sweetheart." She smiles and sets her tea cup down on a side table. "I watched the tape from your last session, all five hours of it. You guys are endearing to watch."

"All five hours? That's really creepy, Sode." I say, and look up at her, aghast.

"Hey now! It's all part of procedure." She chuckles. "I also know about your little endeavors in the Activity Space."

"Sode!" I pipe up. "That's…private."

"Honey, you need to learn that nothing is private in Seireitei." She sighs, and takes another sip from her tea. "You of all people should be used to it by now."

"You think I don't know that, Sode?" I ask angrily. "I've been here for over five fucking years; I know how it all works!"

"Calm down, Rukia." Sode's voice cuts through the air. She gives me a wary look. It's then that I notice that I had jumped out of my chair and that I'm standing about two feet away from Sode with my fists clenched and my teeth grinding.

"Please sit down."

I do as I'm told. "I'm sorry, Sode." I wipe a hand across my face. "I'm just… really worried about Ichigo right now."

"And why is that?" She asks, writing a few things down in a notepad as she does so.

"Well, after… our thing in the Activity Space… Ishida approached us and told Ichigo that he had a visitor. Ichigo looked as white as a ghost, and then told me that we probably wouldn't see each other on the T.V. tonight."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Rukia." Sode says. "Do you know why Ichigo would be so nervous about a visitor?"

"No." I say. "Me and Ichigo don't really like to talk about our past that much."

"I see." Sode confirms. We sit in silence for a few moments. "Would you like to know who visited Ichigo today?"

That grabs my attention. I lean forward in my seat and appraise my therapist. "Isn't that confidential or something?"

"Oh, Rukia." Sode sighs. "Ichigo's therapist, Zangetsu, and I have talked recently. We have decided that you and Ichigo are practically the same case. You two are so important to each other's development that we consider you two to be the same person."

"I'm not following."

"Let me give you an example." Sode scribbles something in her notepad before setting it down beside her tea cup. "If Ichigo hadn't have come to Seireitei, you would've still been an unresponsive mute."

I stare at her.

"And if you had never come to Seireitei, Ichigo would still have been a violent juvenile." Sode says. "Get the picture?"

"Yeah, I think so." I mumble. "So you guys are treating us as one case?"

"Exactly."

"Which means…?" I trail off.

"I'm allowed to tell you everything involving Ichigo." Sode confirms. "Which includes his visitors."

"Oh." I cross my arms.

"So would you like to know?" She asks, and takes another sip of her tea. I swear, it's like a bottomless cup. She never runs out of tea. I don't get it. She's not even English.

Sode gives me a what-the-fuck-are-you-waiting-for-look. I feel like I'm betraying Ichigo's privacy if I let Sode tell me who Ichigo's visitor was. But then again… there are no secrets in Seireitei….

Right?

"Okay. Shoot." I say somewhat reluctantly, but still listening intently to whatever Sode no Shirayuki has to say.

"Alright." Sode crosses her legs. "Ichigo's ex-girlfriend came to see Ichigo."

"What?" I hiss. He had a girlfriend? Who was she? I lean back against my chair, glaring at Sode and seething.

"Calm down, Rukia." Sode says, and rolls her eyes. "He absolutely loathes the girl. I watched their confrontation tape, and she's the ditsiest thing, I swear. He has no feelings for her at all."

"Why did she come to see him?"

"She was delivering a letter. And from what I could perceive—she still has feelings for him."

That bitch.

"What did the letter say?" I ask.

"That, I do not know." Sode pipes up. "It has to go through a few pre-reads and regulations beforeI can even get a hold of it. But I know that it's from his father, Isshin Kurosaki…" She trails off. There doesn't seem much more for us to talk about.

"I think that's enough for today, Rukia." Sode gets up from her chair and smoothed out the wrinkles her expensive white dress. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Sode."

I leave the room, my head muddled with a billion different thoughts, one guard trailing behind me. I saunter into my room, and sit on my uncomfortable cot and wait for something to happen like usual. The door makes that aggravating beeping noise as it locks me in.

And for one single moment, I wonder if I'll ever be sane enough to leave this godforsaken place. For the first time in a long time, I think about escape, and what it entails. If I ever was released from the bleached walls of Seireitei, I would be dead in a matter of days. Aizen doesn't want me out in the colored world. I would ruin his perfectly fabricated good name. I would tell the world of his evil, thus ruining him. But then I thought of the sovereignty and independence I would have. If Ichigo and I managed to escape together, and live in hiding, would I be happy?

Could I be happy?

~.~.~.~.~

I pace my cell—somewhat nervous to receive my father's letter. It's been two weeks since I came here, and I haven't had word of him since. What could he possibly need now? What could he possibly want to say? When I had started to use hard drugs—cocaine, meth, and X—I thought that my father had never wanted to see me again. He kicked me out, and told me that I would never again be his son.

That had cut me deep. I had always respected my father in some sort of retrospect. He was a decent man, a kind man, and he deserved a good son. He doesn't need me. Even when he came to my court hearing, when he said that he had "a good son, an honest son," I knew that he was still the kind hearted soul I remembered him as. But still.

If I was him, I wouldn't forgive myself. I was a shithead and we both knew it.

So why would he send a letter?

~.~.~.~.~

I've been in my room for two hours now, and nothing has happened. I think I might just go crazy—crazier—than I already am.

It was then that a burly guard entered my room and handed me the letter without saying a word. I waited for him to leave before tearing open the envelope and pulling out the letter inside.

_Ichigo,_

_I'm sorry that I haven't been able to contact you these past two weeks. Seireitei wouldn't answer my phone calls and I've been busy with the girls and the hospital. _

_I just wanted you to know that I still love you, no matter what you did in your past. As soon as you're better, I want you to come home, okay?_

_I love you._

_-Isshin_

A drop of wetness splats onto the paper, making the loving combination of letters smear. My hands are shaking a little. My throat's closed up.

Huh.

So I really am his good son.

/

**A/N: Hello! First of all, I sincerely apologize for the late update. This is sort of a filler chapter, because the action will be unfolding veryyy soon :D**

**The Ivory Tower is probably about 10-12 updates away from its conclusion. But don't worry, because I plan on writing a sequel. I don't want to tell you the title, because I think it would give the ending of The Ivory Tower away. **

**Thank you for putting up with me, my lovelies.**

**Have a good one.**

**-Liym Enello**


	18. Episode 18: The Espionage!

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 18: The Espionage

/

"Dad, Dad!" Yuzu squealed and jumped around with excitement. "She's waking up! Dad! Dad, come here...!"

"What was that, Yuzu?" Isshin asked as he stepped through the doorway of the patient's room.

"She's waking up!"

It was true. The monitor keeping track of Rangiku's heart beat started to speed up, indicating that she was about to wake from her deep sleep. Her eyes started to flutter under her lids.

"Go get me a glass of water and some soup, Yuzu." Isshin told his daughter curtly. She gave Rangiku one last look and rushed out immediately.

Rangiku's eyes slowly opened. She wanted to close them –the light in the room was so bright—but she forced them open. Her eyes met Isshin's, who looked happy, and she opened her mouth to speak. A painful croak was all the escaped her throat.

"Here, father—" Yuzu handed Isshin the glass of water, and set the blue bowl of soup down on the bedside table.

"Drink this." Isshin put the water to Rangiku's lips, and she drank greedily. When half of it was gone, Isshin pulled the glass away. Rangiku whined –she wanted more water.

"No, no, we don't want you to get sick from drinking too much." He set the glass down. Rangiku nodded glumly. She looked over at her arm because of a sudden pinching sensation when she moved it. She was connected to a cumbrous supply of tubes and needles. She looked away, sickened by the image. It was one thing to stick another person with a needle back at Seireitei, but a whole other issue entirely when it was in her own arm.

"Those are just nutrients and painkillers. Nothing fishy, I promise." Isshin spoke, raising his eyebrows at his patient.

"Thank you." Rangiku managed to whisper. The water had helped, but not that much.

"Can you tell me who you are… so I can contact your family?"

"I don't have any family." Rangiku glanced at Isshin with a sad look in her eyes that passed as quickly as it came. "But my name is Rangiku…" She paused. If she wanted to slip under Aizen's radar, then she shouldn't give away her real name. "Rangiku Hitsugaya."

"I see." Isshin said. "Do you remember what happened?"

~.~.~.~.~

_"Hello." Came a voice from behind her._

_Rangiku whirled around at the sound of that hissing voice. Her head swirled, and she seems to be seeing two of everything._

_"I… thought I lost… you." She murmurs, hardly able to control her speech._

_"It was a good effort, I'll give you that."_

_Then she heard a loud bang, and felt a bullet blast through her chest._

~.~.~.~.~

"No," Rangiku murmured quietly. "All I remember is coming home from work, and then waking up here." She looked away from Isshin, hoping that her guilty blush wouldn't give away her lie.

"That's all?" Isshin asked, somewhat skeptical.

"That's all."

"Well," Isshin clapped his hands together. "You are making a speedy recovery, which is good. Although, I insist that you stay with us for a few weeks, until your strong enough to return home."

"I can't stay, Mr…"

"Kurosaki."

Rangiku flinched marginally. She had forgotten about him. She suddenly remembered the first time she woke up in the hospital, if only for a few moments. Dr. Kurosaki had introduced himself, and she had cursed the Kurosaki name and all the ties they had in her life.

She had passed out after that.

Rangiku couldn't believe the irony. She left Seireitei to save Ichigo, and ended up in his father's hospital.

"Of course you can stay, Rangiku." Isshin said.

"No, I really can't, Dr. Kurosaki." She pleaded. "I have about fifty dollars to my name, I can't pay you back."

"Nonsense. I never turn away a person in need. Stay as long as you like." And with that, Isshin smiled, and handed Rangiku the bowl of soup Yuzu had brought in. "Eat this. And try to get some rest."

Rangiku gobbled up the soup with fervor—it was delicious—and started to feel sleepy. Isshin smirked—looking some much like his son—and left the room.

"Sleep." He said.

She laid her auburn head down onto the cloud-like pillow and was snoring instantly.

~.~.~.~.~

Yuzu opened the door slightly, allowing just a sliver of space to look through. She gazed at the injured woman sleeping on the cot, her breathing a little irregular, but nothing to be worried about.

"Who do you think she is, Karin?" Yuzu pestered her twin sister.

"I don't know." Karin said. "Frankly, I don't really care."

"But she's so pretty! And Orihime said she found her in an alleyway close to Rukongai. What would she be doing on that bad side of town?"

"Hell if I know, Yuzu." Karin pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, a habit she picked up from her father. "Let's just hope she's not some serial killer who fakes illnesses just to kill her male doctors."

"Karin, what a horrible thing to say!" Yuzu gasped, and looked through the doorframe again, cautiously watching the woman to make sure she hadn't woken up and overheard. She was still sleeping soundly. Yuzu turned around to give her twin a glare.

"It's just a theory." Karin rolled her eyes, and strode down the hallway, leaving her twin sister to look after their newest patient. Karin continued to pad into the kitchen, and open the refrigerator. "Fuckkk-k-k. Nothing to eat," She mumbled to herself. "Yuzu! When's dinner!"

"Shhh, Karin! She's sleeping!" Yuzu whisper-shouted.

Karin rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth shut and closed the refrigerator. Then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Karin murmured and jogged down another hallway to reach the door. She opened it, and took sight of a sour-looking Orihime. It was unusual, really. Whenever Orihime had stopped by to visit Ichigo back when they were dating, she had always seemed bright and upbeat. Now, Orihime's features molded into that of her brothers—scowling and bitter.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"Oh-oh. Um, no," Orihime stuttered. "I, er, actually came to see your dad."

"He's in his study," Karin nodded behind her, and then appraised the girl in front of her. She raised her eyebrows. "May I ask why you're visiting on this fine evening?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Karin." Orihime said curtly, and pushed her way through the door. "Excuse me."

Karin scoffed as she watched Orihime waltz down the hallway toward her father's study.

~.~.~.~.~

"Mr. Kurosaki." Orihime slipped through the mahogany door into the dimly lit room. The man swiveled in his chair to face Orihime, his face softly lit by a desk lamp.

"Oh, my lovely Orihime. Good to see you alive and healthy."

Orihime nodded, and leaned against the closed door. "I delivered the letter."

"Thank you," Dr. Kurosaki sighed shakily with relief, and put his head in his hands, sniffing gently. "To tell you the truth, I was too nervous to go and talk to him myself."

"Don't be." The young girl said. "He seems to be fairly…um…stable."

"Really?" He asked.

"Really."

"That's brilliant news. Thank you, Orihime."

"No problem. It was nothing, considering I think of you as an old friend." Orihime laughed quietly to herself.

"Do you?" Dr. Kurosaki chuckled. "It's a shame you and Ichigo didn't work out. Your children would've been beautiful."

Orihime grimaced, and held onto the doorknob tightly, all of the blood leaving her knuckles with the pressure. Dr. Kurosaki noticed her discomfort, and mumbled his apologies. The girl assured him that it was nothing, and turned around to open the door fully. She slid out of the frame, and left the Kurosaki residence for good.

~.~.~.~.~

I kept the letter.

You didn't think I would?

Well… I did.

I actually read it a few time after the first. My father, Isshin Kurosaki, still considered me a son. It was a joyful moment for me, really. I had always respected my father, admired him even. To know that he had my back… it felt good. I felt whole.

I set the letter down, sideways, on the small table beside my cot, leaning against a lamp that was nailed to the table. If I lay down, I would be able to read it when I was trying to get some sleep. It soothed me.

I sigh, and run a hand through my orange locks. I guess that I would be able to have a television sesh with Rukia tonight, after all. Being that my strange visitor today had actually been Orihime, and not Aizen. Or Gin.

I walked over to my cell door, and pounded on it a few times—hard. "Oi! Oi, you guards out there?"

My cell door beeped, and opened. Only a few guards greeted me. And only gun was trailed on me. I guess that Seireitei was finally deciding to trust me a little.

"Can you fetch Ms. Shirayuki for me?" I ask one of the guards. He just frowned. So I tried something new.

"Please?" I tried to make my eyes look pleading. One of the guards sighed, and turned on his heel, heading down the hallway.

"She'll be here momentarily," Another guard said gruffly. He closed the door in my smirking face.

~.~.~.~.~

Sode, bless her finely manicured heart, burst into my room with the television set at the ready. I hadn't even had to ask her. "I'm so glad you've cheered up, Ichigo." Sode said, somewhat sleepily. "Rukia told me that you two wouldn't be seeing each other tonight…"

"There was a change in plans." I say smoothly.

"Yeah whatever," Sode waved me off. "Just shut up and talk to her." She wheeled the set over to where I was sitting on the bed and turned it on before I could even tell her about the ironic statement she had just said. "I'm actually feeling a bit tired, so I won't be reviewing your tapes until tomorrow, okay? I'm going home."

"Bye Sode," I tell her. "Get some sleep."

"Thanks, Ichigo." She gives me a wink, and leaves the room. Almost like the television was recognizing Sode's absence, it suddenly buzzed to life. Rukia's smiling face appeared on the screen, and I couldn't stop myself from returning the gesture. She just made me feel better without even trying.

"Hey, Rukia."

"Hi, Ichigo." Her smile grew. Her face was gorgeously illuminated by the sunset leaking through her skylight. Her lips seem pinker, fuller. Her violet eyes—my favorite color—sparkle. I place my hand on the screen without even realizing it. I want to touch her. To feel her lips on my lips. She does the same. Goddamn this television, getting in the way of us.

"How are you?" Rukia says.

"I was feeling a bit monotonous—until now." I smirk and tilt my head to the side to assess her. "How are you feeling?"

"Good—now." She smiled. God, she was beautiful. My hand press into the screen even harder. I think it might shatter. But the screen didn't shatter.

Something else did.

Rukia's skylight explodes into a billion pieces. Rukia screams, and covers her face as shards of plastic shower over her.

"Rukia!" I plead, and grip the television set. Her room suddenly fades to into blackness. I can just make out her silhouette in the dim. "Rukia!"

"Ichigo?" She asks, confusion lacing her voice. "Are you still there?"

"Hello." A slithery voice pierces the air. The walls are suddenly floodlit; the dark figure that had been covering the skylight is now in her room. Right beside her. Near her. Breathing on her. I clench the television set with even more desperation then before.

"Rukia, turn around!"

"What?"

The room is dark again as another figure slips through it. When it lands on the floor, the room is lit again.

Oh, God. I know that face.

"Boss, we got the wrong room…" Gin scratches the back of his neck.

"No! You bastards!" I scream. My vision is glowing red. "Leave her alone! It's me you want!"

"Doesn't matter." Aizen hisses. "We have to go. An alarm was raised when we broke in." He looks at Rukia with a menacing glint in his eye. "This is your room, Rukia?" He laughs, his hands slipping down to his gut. "The sardonicism is palpable. Take her, Gin."

"No!" I shout. "Help, help me!" I cry outside to my guards. "Help her!"

The blood in Rukia's face drains, her whole complexion paling. "A-Aizen."

"That's me, sweetheart." He smirks as Gin grabs Rukia under her arms. He lifts her up like a rag doll and throws her over his shoulder.

Fuck.

"No!" I scream. I can feel myself slipping, losing control. No, not now. She needs me now. I get up, and start pounding my cell door. "She needs you! Hurry! She-"

My door glides open. A guard barges into the room. "What's going on here?"

"Save Rukia!" I scream, and stare at the television.

"Now, Renji!" Gin shouts into a device hooked onto his shoulder. A long ladder with footholds on the bottom slithers through the skylight. The sound of a helicopter's blades beating penetrates the sound barrier. Rukia is kicking and screaming at her captors, but she seems to have no effect on them. Both Aizen and Gin step onto the footholds at the bottom of the ladder. Gin secures his grip on Rukia, and tugs on the ladder. It slowly rises.

"No!" I pound at the television. I whirl around to face the guard in my room, who is staring at the television screen with an aghast look on his face. "You need to help her!"

The guard stays frozen. With a growl, I push past him, and break through my line of guards at the door with brutal force. I'm running down the hallway now, blindly. I don't know where I'm going. Seireitei is like a labyrinth. I feel the animal in me stirring. I claw at my face, trying to will the creature out of my body. Get away, I don't need you right now! _She_ needs _me_!

_Good evening, King._

I scream, and the darkness takes over me slice by sadistic slice. I pray to God that I don't kill anybody. But more importantly, I pray—to whoever is up there—that Rukia will be safe.

But she's not.

Somehow, though a blind haze, an animalistic sense, I find Rukia's room.

Rukia's empty room.

/

**A/N: Reviewing on this action-packed chapter would make me a very happy camper.**

**So please do.**

**I would love feedback on this.**


	19. Episode 19: The Exodus

THE IVORY TOWER

/

Episode 19: The Exodus

/

Ichigo presses his palm down on the television screen. I do the same. If I could recollect from memory, I almost felt the warmth of his hand, his rough but gentle fingers. I press harder.

He says hey. I say hi.

I look up at him, explaining wordless emotions in one glance. We talk. Just for a little bit. Just for a few infinitesimal moments. Then, the sound of something very hard hitting glass. Every atom of my room seems to explode, and I can't help but scream out of both fear and shock. Shards of sharp plastic rain down on me, and I cover my head instinctually. A few of them prick the skin on my scalp. One slices into my cheek. I cry out again, in pain.

The air around me seems to swirl and converge into a dark ink color. I'm half blind.

"Rukia!" I hear Ichigo gasping through the television. "Rukia!"

"Ichigo?" I ask. I cautiously move towards the television, my only source of light. The connection on it is bad. I only see glimpses of Ichigo. Static. Then glimpses. I hear some scuffling coming from where my skylight used to be. I shiver. I touch the television screen, begging Ichigo for his protection. "Are you still there?"

"Hello." A slithery voice rapes my eardrums. I know that the room is light again… the walls on the far side are back to their natural bleached color. But that voice. I recognize it from somewhere. I'm too afraid to look his way. And my blood is running cold.

"Rukia, turn around!" Ichigo pleads, his voice slightly muffled by the poor connection.

"What?" I ask.

"Boss, we got the wrong room…" Gin speaks. I finally whirl around to face him. He's pale. With even purer hair. White as snow. His squinty eyes hide the cold, ice-blue ones I know lay beneath. The room goes dark again, if only for a moment. Another thud is heard as a figure makes contacts with the tiled floor. I'm too busy staring at Gin out of fear to see who the new intruder is, but from Ichigo's reaction, I'm sure it isn't good.

"No! You -astards!" Ichigo screams, buzzing in and out of audibility. "Le- her alone! It's—m-you want!"

"Doesn't matter." Oh God. That voice.

_His_ voice.

"We have to go. An alarm was raised when we broke in." I hear him pad across the room towards me. "This is your room, Rukia?" He laughs. It sounds like acid deprecating a corpse. "The sardonicism is palpable. Take her, Gin."

I can't breathe. I've always wanted to leave Seireitei. It's been a dream of mine. But not this way. Not with him. Not without Ichigo.

"No!" I hear Ichigo shout. "Help, help me! Help her!"

I finally gather up enough courage to look at the bastard in the face, and I feel the blood draining from my mine at the sight of him. Tall. Cold. Smirking. Just how I left him. "A-Aizen."

"That's me, sweetheart." He sneers, winks at me, and nods to Gin. He lifts my paralyzed form off of the bed I've slept in for years. It practically has an imprint of my body permanently imbedded into it. He throws me over his shoulder as if I I'm a bag of air.

Shit.

"No!" Ichigo, although his voice sounds farther away, is still perceptible. "She needs you! Hurry! She-"

Gin carries me across the room, so we're both directly under the shattered skylight. The sound of beating blades penetrates my ears as my hair whips around my face. I break out of my paralyzed reveries when I realize that Ichigo hasn't come to save me this this, and that I have to try to save myself. I start kicked and punching Gin with all the strength I have, but it's worth nothing. It is nothing.

"Save Rukia!" Ichigo screams. The desperation in his voice almost breaks my heart. I want to tell him that everything will be okay, but I know that I'm as good as dead. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

"Now, Renji!" Gin shouts into a device hooked onto his shoulder.

Renji! That traitor. I knew he was sketchy to begin with. I should've known he was working for Aizen all along. I feel Gin reach over to grab onto something, I'm not sure. My head can't go back far enough to see what's going on from my position on Gin's bony shoulder. He steps onto something. A ladder?

"No!" Ichigo continues to plead.

What I suppose to be a ladder slowly rises. Gin tightens his hold on me so much that it's painful. I quit my kicking and punching and try to slither out of his grasp.

It doesn't work.

From the audio of the television, I hear crashing, and the sound of several guards screaming. A gunshot fires. Ichigo's coming for me.

I tell Aizen this. But he just smiles, and tells me that the only thing he'll ever save is my bones.

The ladder suddenly stops rising. I look up, and watch Renji pull Aizen up into the cargo area. He reaches for Gin's outstretched hand next, and pulls us both up. Gin throws me off his shoulder, and I smack the bottom of the cockpit hard. I whimper, and roll over to look outside of the helicopter. Ichigo isn't there. He's still not there.

"Make sure she doesn't escape." Aizen hisses to his right hand man. Gin grabs the backs of my arms and hauls me up on my feet and pushes me toward a seat. He belts me in, and then pulls out some duct tape to secure my hands and feet with. He contemplates putting some over my mouth, but shrugs and decides against it. He puts the tape back into a storage unit and buckles himself in a seat beside me.

"All set, Boss." He says.

Aizen gives Renji some kind of signal, and we rise up high into the air. The Seireitei Asylum becomes a small white box in the distance, fading away into a pinprick, and then into nothing as we sail over the dark purple clouds. The sunset casts beautiful hues across the horizon. I have never seen the sun this way before, and it's lovely.

I feel Aizen's eyes boring into my scalp, but I can't bring myself to look at my captor. I keep my eyes on the sunset until it disappears twenty minutes later.

"Gin." _His_ voice breaks the long silence.

"Yes, sir?"

"You should blindfold her now. We are about to descend. We won't have any cloud cover."

"Yes sir." Gin unbuckles himself and walks over to me. He pulls out a black bandana, folds it twice, and then secures it around my head, sufficiently blinding me. I've seen enough CSI to know where this was going. They don't want me to know where we are, just in case I had a way to notify the police.

They wanted to make sure that I would never be found.

I pull at my DIY duct tape handcuffs. They don't budge. I try to wriggle my feet through the bonds at my ankles, but it hurts so much I can't bring myself to continue. I huff, officially frustrated and –most of all—royally pissed.

"I don't understand." I finally speak aloud to my captors. "Why did you take me instead of Ichigo? Isn't he your _experiment_?" I spit out the last word to no one in particular, my voice trembles slightly.

"Rukia…" I hear Aizen coo. "Ichigo was our first priority, but you can thank Gin for getting the wrong room." If I know Aizen—and I really do know him for what he is—I know he's glaring at Gin with a look of ice. "But you're a reasonable substitute. Renji informed me, before he was dismissed from Seiretei, that you and Ichigo had grown attached to each other. Ichigo will come for you, eventually. Then I'll take him as well."

"He'll _kill _you." I hiss, with venom lacing my voice. "He'll rip you apart. He has strength you will never even begin to understand."

"High praise… for an experiment _I _created." Aizen says contemptuously.

"No—you never created him. Ulquiorra did. Don't give yourself the honor—claiming you created the most dangerous weapon in country. You didn't."

Aizen sighs. "Gin."

I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head, and fail to gather up my state of mind and consciousness.

~.~.~.~.~

Her room is empty.

It's fucking empty.

I'm so livid; a red haze sheaths my eyes. The broken plastic pieces. The open skylight. Rukia's abandoned bed. I see her infamous sneakers lounging on the floor. She never goes anywhere without those things. I growl and punch the nearest wall, my fist making and inch thick dent in the solid concrete.

I can faintly hear the helicopter that they used to break out of Seiretei. I jump towards the skylight, trying to grasp it tight enough so I can pull myself up and get a better view of where they're headed. But it's too high. I can't reach.

I scream. Piercingly. Completely animalistic.

I sprint out of the room, almost on all fours like an animal. An annoying ringing sound goes off in the hallways. One of my guards must have raised an alarm. I push past numerous nurses, doctors, and a few armed guards. I get through them almost too easily. The farther I go, the further I'm being pushed into my demon state. The more powerful I become.

I just pray that I won't black out.

Who knows what would happen then.

My feet carry me faster than I thought was a possible. I—almost blindly—dash through the maze of hallways in Seiretei. Trying to find an exit. Any exit.

After a few moments of running, I notice that there is the sound of pounding feet behind me. My guards.

Run faster.

I do.

I run for many more moments. Turning corners at random. Always moving. Never stopping. I come to a shocked halt when I reach the doors to the Activity Space. Without a millisecond more of hesitation, I break through the door, into the foyer. I open the second door that actually leads to the outdoors. I rush out into the yard, earning a few surprised looks from the patients sprawling in the grass.

The alarm is louder now, so much louder that it causes the other patients to cover their ears and gasp. I mumble a quick sorry to them, and take off across the lawn. I head towards the tall fence that surrounds the activity space. I glance over my shoulder, and take in the sight of about twenty guards dressed in white, carrying semi-automatics and Tazers.

Shit.

With one final scream, I hurl myself at the chain link fence, and start climbing. By the time I reach the top, where the barbed wire is, I can practically hear the guards' Tazers buzzing. I carefully maneuver over the barbed wire, not without falling victim to major cuts on my hands and legs. I'm starting to climb down the other side of the fence when I guard sets his Tazer to maximum power, and touches the fence with it.

The whole fence seems to vibrate and send bolts of lightning throughout my entire body. I'm frozen in a silent scream as the voltage attacks me. With some kind of last-chance energy, I pry my fingers off of the fence, and fall about twenty feet to the hard ground. All the air leaves my lungs, but I manage to get up and stagger away from Seiretei. I head for the tree line, where more apple trees grew. Their blossoms, because of a sudden gust of wind, slowly drift toward the ground, landing in my hair and on my shoulders. I charge further into the trees, hearing distressed shouts and police sirens in the distance.

I couldn't help but smile. After about a month, I was finally free from my own, private, and decolorized hell. It just made me feel that much worse for Rukia. She spent five goddamn years in it.

Speaking of whom, my eyes searched the skyline for her. The helicopter was gone. I clench my fists tightly and scowl. Aizen fucking got away with it. But I was determined to hunt her… even it if cost me my life.

~.~.~.~.~

When I wake up, the blindfold is off, and my hands and feet are liberated. I groggily rise into a half-sitting, half-laying position and rub my eyes.

"Drink this." Renji's bulky form slithers into view. He's holding a glass out to me.

I take the cup from his hands and sip on it. I relish the ice water rescuing my parched throat. "Thank you." I mumble.

Renji simply nods, and returns to the opposite corner of the room.

We seem to be in a prestigious mansion. The living room of it, anyway. The walls are pure white, as are many accents of the room including the couches, (I'm lying down in one of them), end tables, vases, flowers, and window panes. The floor is a polished black wood. A single painting of an emerald sea, which is the only hint of color in the entire room, rests above a roaring fireplace on my left side.

"This place reminds me of Seireitei." I whisper.

"Shut up." Renji says curtly.

"Where are we?" I ask. I pull myself up into a full sitting position and put my hands in my lap.

"Ulquiorra's mansion." Renji mutters, rubbing one eye and yawning. We sit in silence for a moment while the information sinks in. The fire crackles and spits. I wonder why Aizen would bother taking me to Ulquiorra's mansion, when Aizen has a perfectly good one of his own. Then it dawns on me.

"You took me here… because you know that this is the first place Ichigo will look." I whisper.

"Wow, you're smarter than you seem." Renji scoffs. "After years of enduring your silence, I thought that you were just stupid."

The glare I send him could rival the fire.

"Don't give me that look." Renji rolls his eyes. "Once Kurosaki gets here, we'll let you go. Then there will be no reason for you to be a bitch."

I clench my hands into fists. "Once Ichigo gets here, he'll murder all of you and then we'll be set free—together."

"Oh," He swoons mockingly. "How romantic."

"Don't mock me!" I rise from the couch.

"Settle down." Renji's demeanor becomes serious. "I was advised to use whatever means necessary to keep you on that couch. I'd rather not waste anymore duct tape. Would you?"

I glare menacingly at him, but do as I'm told and sit down. I lean back against the side of the couch and drape one leg over the other, fuming.

"That's a good girl." Renji smirks and props his body against the wall.

We sit in a silence that is even more awkward then the last. I decide to speak up, only because I was getting tired of hearing Renji's multiple yawns and sighs. "So where is Aizen and Gin, anyway?"

"They're downstairs, in the basement."

I shudder at the thought of Aizen in the floor below me. It's like seeing a spider, or snake. You're terrified when you see it, but it's even worse when you look away for one second and then don't know where it is.

It was then that I hear the sound of growls coming from outside. I sit up, my arms gripping the edges of the couch.

"_Aizen!_" Ichigo bursts through the front door, which they never bothered to lock. I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of him. He's here. He's come for me. His orange hair is matted down from the rain—which I realize is pouring. His chest heaves with heavy pants. His white shirt and sweatpants are ripped in various places. Splotches of red splatter his chest, arms, and neck. Blood?

"Shit, he's here!" Renji fumbles to grab his walky talky on his belt. "Kurosaki is in the building!" He shouts into it. Renji doesn't have time to say anything, because Ichigo lurches forward and attacks him, almost like the day he saved me in the lunchroom, with Ichigo facing Renji's back, his muscular arms strangling his thick neck.

There was hardly any struggle. Ichigo, with a simple jerk of his arms, breaks Renji's neck. He collapses to the floor, dead and cold.

"I-Ichigo." I jump off the couch and run towards him. I yelp in shock when Ichigo pushes me roughly away from him, a growl forming in his throat. I land hard on my ass, skidding back on the polished floor. Ichigo launches himself at me until he is level with me, covering my body with his. I can feel every curve of him, and it would be sensual if his eyes hadn't been glowing an ominous gold.

"It's me, Ichigo! It's me!" I try to push him off me, but he's too strong. "It's Rukia!"

Ichigo frowns, and furrows his brows. His eyes fade back to their hazel brown color. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. He quickly pushes himself off of me, and lends me his hand. I grasp it tightly, and he hauls me up from the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Rukia." He holds my hand tighter, and pulls me into an embrace.

"It's okay." I mumble against his chest. "You can control it. Your inner demon. That's good."

He hugs me tighter. "Where's Aizen?"

"In the basement."

I can feel Ichigo flinch against me. He has a lot of bad memories down there. Ulquiorra's experiment. His torture. The murder.

"You don't have to go." I pull away slightly so I can look at him. "We can leave right now."

"No," Ichigo closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I need to end this." When he opens his eyes, there is a brand new spark of determination in them.

"I'm coming too."

"No you're not." He gives me a solemn look. "I mean that. If I can't control it fully, you could get hurt."

"Alright," I roll my eyes at him. I had no intention of staying on the ground floor like a weak damsel, anyway. As soon as Ichigo entered the basement, I was taking the elevator down too. "Just be careful, okay?"

He backs away from me, towards an elevator in the adjoining hallway and smirks. "Aren't I always?"

I appraise him. His cuts. Bruises. Torn clothes. "Very funny."

He presses a button on a panel, and the elevator doors slither open with a cheery _ding_. Ichigo shudders at the noise, but faces his fear and steps onto the elevator. I walk towards him, and we exchange a look full of meaning that cannot be expressed into words.

The elevator doors slowly glide to a close, and another maddening _ding_ echoes in the hallway. I press my hand against the cold metal of the elevator, fervently wishing that it was a television and that I could see Ichigo's hand pressing against it too.

/

**The End. **

**Haha, I'm kidding. Did I give you a heart attack? Ichigo and Rukia's story is far from over! **

**Thank you guys **_**so much**_** for all your positive reviews! 260 of them, holy shit. **

**I feel like a proud mother.**

**Anyway, please review! Can we get to the 300 mark for this chapter? **

**That would probably make my** **life. **

**Seriously.**

**-L.E.**


	20. Episode 20: The Con

THE IVORY TOWER

/

**Quick A/N: People have been reviewing and PM'ing me, asking about why the time between Rukia's kidnapping and rescue was so short. In all honesty, I didn't want to write a boring, five-chapter long kidnapping scene. I find them cliché, and frankly, very predictable. So. I wanted to surprise you guys and get right into the action.**

**On with the show.**

/

Episode 20: The Con

/

_"Just be careful, okay?"_

_He smirks. "Aren't I always?"_

_I appraise him. His cuts. Bruises. Torn clothes. "Very funny."_

_He presses a button on a panel, and the elevator doors slither open with a cheery ding. Ichigo shudders at the noise, but faces his fear and steps onto the elevator. I walk towards him, and we exchange a look full of meaning that cannot be expressed into words._

_The elevator doors slowly glide to a close, and another maddening _ding_ echoes in the hallway. I press my hand against the cold metal of the elevator, fervently wishing that it was a television and that I could see Ichigo's hand pressing against it too._

~.~.~.~.~

The elevator doors slide to a close, with Rukia's face getting smaller and smaller until it disappears entirely, is when I finally release the shaky breath I had been holding securely in my chest. I clench my fists at my sides to hide my fear, although I'm almost certain it reflects in my eyes. The jolt of almost-free-fall courses through my body as the elevator slowly descends to my fate.

I stare blankly at the light buzzing up above, losing my train of thought only to have it reawakened into one single image: Rukia's eyes. The held-back fear that drained them of their usual vibrancy haunted me. Will continue to haunt me, until the day I die.

I was doing this for her. I escaped Seireitei –barely—for her. I came back to Ulquiorra's mansion for her. I'm going to kill Aizen for her. This thought brings a deadly calm demeanor to my body. My hands unclench, and my arms now hang limply. I stop scowling, and my breath comes in leisurely, steady inhalations.

When the elevator doors reopen, and that ever so annoying _ding_ echoes in my soul. It is pitch black. Utter darkness. Night. No light could be seen anywhere, except for the faint light the elevator offered behind me, leaving only a small sliver of visibility in the torture chamber that created me.

"You killed my guard." Aizen's snake-like voice cannot be unheard.

"I did." I call out to the darkness. To him. Although—they are one in the same.

"Pity," Aizen speaks. "He was reliable."

I step out of the elevator, and the doors slide closed behind me. I flinch –only slightly—when I'm cloaked in the thick black air. The elevator leaves me alone, the only living entity to care about me, to know where I am, or what I'm doing, is one story away. And it might as well be a mile.

"Ichigo." My name echoes in the room. I move towards the voice. I'm desperate to get my fingers around his proud, expensive neck. I just want to end it all.

"Ichigo!" The voice resounds from the opposite side of the room. How can he move that fast. I whirl around, and start walking towards what I think is the other wall…

"Ichigo…" Aizen's voice sounds hungry. He wants my power. He wants me. I cross my arms over my chest because of the cold air. It must be below freezing. How could it be this cold inside a building? Then lightning crashed, coming from a very small window I had never noticed before on a far wall. It filled the room with such a bright light, I almost covered my eyes. But I couldn't. It was my only opportunity to see _him._

I didn't look fast enough. I could find him. But I sure as hell knew he saw me.

"Ichigo."

I run towards the voice this time, waiting for a flash of lightning to guide me.

_Crack!_ The spark of electricity shatters the darkness. I see nothing but a small table set in the corner of the room, with a smell black box resting on top of it. I quickly glance behind me—darkness now. Dammit. I can't see anything.

"Ichigo."

It's right in front of me. I pull my arm back, and punch towards the sound as hard as I possibly could.

I hear something fragile break against the concrete that was probably still stained with Ulquiorra's heartless blood. Another flash of lightning, and I see it.

A small recorder, much like the types I've seen inside Seireitei when a therapist wants to interview a patient. A terrified gasp escapes my throat when I hear it.

"I-I-I-I-Ichigo. Ichigo-go-go-go." It's not Aizen's voice at all. Only a recording of it. He's not even in the room. I whirl around at the sound of thunder, and the burst of light that reveals the _open_ window. He's out there. With a frustrated growl, and run towards the window and jump, hurling my body out onto solid ground.

"Aizen!" I shout into the woods that made up Ulquiorra's backyard.

"Ichigo!"

_No._

That's not Aizen's voice. It's hers. It's Rukia's.

Crying for help.

~.~.~.~.~

After Ichigo descended down into the basement, my fingers slipped from the cold metal of the elevator. I rolled my shoulders back, full of resolve. As soon as the elevator came back up, I would hop right in. We could take on Aizen as a team. I waited patiently. Well, sort of. I bounced on the balls of my feet a little… and my hands were awkward and fidgety. Nervous.

God, this elevator had to be broken or something. It wouldn't take this long, right?

"Hello, darling," Aizen purred. I turned to see his sleek figure opening a sliding-glass door. He entered the grand living room, soaking wet, water droplets gathering on his skin and clothes only to fall on the polished black wood despairingly, light a weeping woman. I take a step back, towards the haven that is the elevator. My fingers search for the button that will send me downstairs. To the basement. To safety. To Ichigo.

"Hey." I say nonchalantly, but I know Aizen detected the terror in my voice. My fingers find the button I was looking for, and I push it, urging the elevator to rise and open for me.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"Downstairs." I say, a lump forming in my throat.

"Oh," Aizen tilts his head to the side, giving me a curious look as he steps closer. "Why is that?"

"Because I'm down there." Ichigo sends the sliding glass door flying backwards, shattering against the very frame holding it together. "Or at least," he eyes flick to me, "I was."

Aizen's lips curl up at the sides.

Ichigo sprints towards Aizen with a tortured scream. He looks half-animal. The way his back arches downward in a cat-like gait. His arms outstretched, his fingers clawed.

Aizen doesn't even turn around. He simply says: "Gin."

The pale, white-haired man suddenly appears from behind a grand marble pillar. I had forgotten all about him. I was so focused on Aizen; I didn't even realize he was gone. The same realization must have hit Ichigo, because his eyes widen and he brings his arms up over his face automatically as Gin punches him in the gut. Gin had a white Tazer in his hand—a gift from thieving Seireitei. He presses a button, and electric shocks penetrate through Ichigo to his very core. An unearthly, agonized scream escapes Ichigo as he undergoes the torment.

"Stop!" I cry out, running towards my insanity. Aizen's arm flashed before me with the force of a brick wall. I fold against him as all the air leaves my lungs in one fell swoop. He brings me to his chest, locking me in against him, his other hand clenching my jaw.

"I want you to watch." He purrs. That's why I set up the little trap downstairs for you Ichigo, I wanted to get you two alone, and then bring you back together in most painful way possible."

"Why?" I manage to say.

"Darling," Aizen's piercing eyes meet mine as his grip on me tightens. "I wanted to break you too."

~.~.~.~.~

The sight of Aizen arms wrapped around Rukia, pulling her flush against him, whispering something into her ear, brings my vision to a murderous red. Even when my body convulses from electric shock, my mind is still calm. I slowly close my eyes, cutting off the disturbed sight of Gin's smile, and my silent scream reflected in his ice-blue eyes. I let the beast stirring inside me take over, because I know it's the only way. I just hope it doesn't cause too much damage.

I slip into unconsciousness, the last thing I feel not the surges of electricity coursing through me, but that of bones crunching under my teeth.

~.~.~.~.~

I thrash against Aizen's grip when I see Ichigo rip Gin's esophagus out with his bare teeth. An evil grin spreads across his features at the sight of his kill. I try to back away from the monster, but Aizen's solid body holds me back. Aizen is obviously surprised at Ichigo's way of controlling the beast, because Ichigo doesn't move to attack us after emancipating his grip on Gin's body.

"Aizen." He hisses. No, _seethes_.

My kidnapper's hold on my jaw tightens, bruising the skin there. His arm snakes around my chest tighter, making it hard for me to breathe. I know that him tightening his hold is a sign of nervousness, a first for him, probably. This is the first time in his life that he's been unsure of himself, of his own power. He doubted Ichigo's, and for that, he's going to pay the ultimate price: his life.

Ichigo finally hurls himself toward us, his golden eyes flashing with malicious intent. The accused man raises me up to cover his own body, using me as a human shield. Ichigo growls with protest, and decides to just slam against us anyway.

Okay, Ichigo doesn't have _complete_ control of his body.

The force of the impact sends both me and Aizen flailing. The good news is, Aizen had to release his hold on me in order to catch his fall. He lands on his hands, spraining them. I wasn't so lucky. I fell right on my back. I could hear my spine shriek in protest. We both slide against the polished floor, landing dangerously close to the roaring fire in the ivory marble hearth.

"You." Aizen gets up from his position, ignoring the pain in his hands in order to stand up and challenge Ichigo, who is standing with his arms outstretched in a battle position about fifteen feet away from us. "You cannot get the better of me. I'm stronger than _you_!"

They both lunge for each other at the same time. I hear an ear-splitting crack as their bodies collide in a mesh of fangs, nails, and power. I try to get up in order to help Ichigo by distracting Aizen somehow, but my limbs pay no attention to the command of my mind. I'm helpless. Paralyzed –literally—on the floor. I can only move my eyes as I watch the two men rip each other limb from limb. I feel my body slowly slipping into a less-conscious state.

_Ichigo…_

~.~.~.~.~

When I wake up, I feel cold. Even colder than the inside of Ulquiorra's house. I open my eyes to see the underside of Ichigo's jaw. He's carrying me, my arms wrapped around his neck, my face buried in his chest. His breath comes in heavy pants. Rain pelts his face, and slides down his neck to drench me to the bone.

"Ichigo." I manage to mumble. I can move my mouth now, that's good.

"Rukia?" He looks down at me frantically, before flicking his eyes back up in order to see where he's going.

"Why… why are we outside?" I ask, my mind is a little numb, and fuzzy.

"We're running," Ichigo pants as he hurtles over a fallen log. "But don't' worry, you're gonna be okay, baby, I promise."

"Wh-where are we going?" I shout, panic overtaking me in my fragile state.

"My father's clinic." Ichigo continues to run through the woods. "When Orihime came to visit me the other day, she gave me a letter from my father. He still loves me. He's going to take care of us, you'll see."

"Okay." I mumble.

The faint sound of police sirens ricochets throughout the wood. I feel Ichigo shiver against me, the sound of the sirens probably bringing back a thousand bad memories. "Rukia, stay with me," He pleads as he continues to run. "If you go under, I'm afraid you won't wake up again."

"I'm not going to die." I say somewhat sleepily. I slowly close my eyelids, just for a moment, but they snap open when I feel Ichigo jostling me, roughly.

"Stay awake!" He says. "Please!"

I won't be able to fight it for long. I think I have a concussion. But I assure him, anyway. "Okay, Ichigo."

We run through the woods for what seems likes hours, the trees start to thin, and they finally expose a simple, two-lane road. Ichigo doesn't even hesitate as he turns right in the direction of Karakura Town.

"Rukia," He shakes me. "Rukia stay with me."

I close my eyes.

"Rukia…" He sounds scared. "Rukia, please." He starts to run even faster.

I fall asleep.

/

**A/N: First of all, I feel horrible that's it's been almost a month since I updated. Sorry. I wrote this whole thing—three hours straight, from beginning to end. Talk about inspiration! You can thank the song Illuminated, by Hurts. (Which may or may not be featured in the next **_**Smoking Hipster**_** update, just saying. But it is an **_**amazing**_** song.)**

**Sorry for any errors, it's 2 in the morning and I'm way too tired to go through this whole thing. Plus, I have a plane to catch tomorrow. Have a lovely day/evening my lovelies.**

**Oh, and please review. (:**

**-Liym Enello**


	21. Episode 21: The Finale

THE IVORY TOWER

**A/N: I highly suggest that you listen to The Gravel Road from The Village soundtrack while you read this. **Link: watch?v=1ro4FHd51t4

/

Episode 21: The Finale

/

_We run through the woods for what seems likes hours, the trees start to thin, and they finally expose a simple, two-lane road. Ichigo doesn't even hesitate as he turns right in the direction of Karakura Town._

_"Rukia," He shakes me. "Rukia stay with me."_

_I close my eyes._

_"Rukia…" He sounds scared. "Rukia, please." He starts to run even faster._

_I fall asleep._

~.~.~.~.~

The sirens blare ever louder behind us, and I know we don't have much time before they enclose us completely. I sprint down the road, before I realize that we're very exposed on the empty street. I dive back into the wood, the occasional tree branch cutting my cheeks with a wicked sting. The acid rain continues to pelt down my back as the wind roars and sends desperate shivers coursing throughout my entire body. I clutch Rukia's limp form tighter in my arms. I know she's fallen asleep, even though I couldn't spare a glance to look at her. Rukia's silence speaks very clearly.

I spent enough time at my father's side during medical procedures to know that she might not wake up. I use this knowledge to push myself through the woods with newly found energy. A flash of red light reflects off a nearby tree. I duck, trying to escape the light's watchful eye.

The sirens continue to blare, so I figure that they didn't find me. I take a few hesitant steps forward, and bolt behind a tree when the beam of a high-powered flashlight glides across the muddy ground just to the left. I stay there, in the safety of the tree's shadow, to catch my breath. I spare a glance at Rukia. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing is nice and even. I spent too much time locked up in my room, away from my father, to know if this was a good or bad sign. I curse every selfish moment I had up in that fucking room, and took off to the right, away from the beam of light.

After a few minutes, my arms start to burn. Rukia may be small, but she's not exactly feather-light. I pause for a few mere seconds to switch positions. I gently throw an arm under Rukia's ass to support her, and place my other hand on the back of her head to keep her from jostling, almost like a father would hold a crying child. I continue to run thorough the unforgiving wood, my mind set only on reaching Karakura to the safety of my father's clinic.

~.~.~.~.~

Turns out that running thirty fucking miles takes a considerable amount of time. After four hours, I didn't have enough energy to run. I pushed myself, and walked for another thirty minutes, but by then my body was spent. I had run at an angle in the woods, getting farther away from the sirens and deeper into the woods. The rain had stopped, and even the sun had graced us with its morning presence. The warmth of the sun pressed against my face, and I closed my eyes as my knees buckled and I landed on my ass on the muddy ground. I opened my eyes, and slowly disentangled myself from Rukia, propping her up against an old tree stump.

I leaned back beside her, wiping dirt off my face with the back of my hand as I did so. I turned toward her, and whispered quietly—"Rukia…"

No response. My face contorted with pain, and I beat the ground with closed fists, leaving bulky dents in the supple mud as a runaway scream escaped my throat. "Wake up, Rukia! Wake up!" My fingers flew towards her, and I found them running themselves through her midnight hair, caressing her pale cheeks, her fragile, closed eyelids. My lips, taking on a mind of their own, gently pressed against Rukia's cold, still ones, again and again, hoping to revive her with their power like some petty, girlish fairy tale. I saw, past the large rip in her once-white t-shirt, the large, purple bruise splotched across her chest.

I did that. I had hurt her.

My hands flew back at my sides, afraid that I would hurt her more, even if I simply touched her. I tore my lips, reluctantly, from hers, and backed away on my hands and knees so I was a good distance away.

I had hurt her, not Aizen. It was me.

~.~.~.~.~

I spent the next half hour just sitting there, massaging my arms and legs, trying to get the aching feeling out of my muscles so I could walk again. Once I could walk, I started to pace, getting my muscles warmed up for the next six or seven hour journey to Karakura.

A distinct flash of fear settled in my spine when I realized that the woods didn't stretch on forever, and that we would soon be out in the open in order to reach my hometown. I looked at my state of disarray: the torn, bloody shirt. The filthy, mud-stained sweatpants. Rukia's condition wasn't much better.

We couldn't walk around town like this, in broad daylight. The very thought of being exposed worried me. I pushed those thoughts aside when I realized there was no turning back, anyway. I hesitantly picked up Rukia and held her in my tired arms, careful not to put too much pressure on her as I walked, determined, deeper into the unwelcoming hands of the woods.

After about an hour, we broke through the tree line into a small, cheery clearing. The mud faded into soft, green grass. A small stream bubbled peacefully to the right. And, if I squinted my eyes, I could make out the crudely cut lines of a small cottage at the other end of the clearing. I raised my eyebrows at the sight. Who would want to live all the way out here, isolated by Karakura and the people in it?

I shrugged, inwardly. Given the chill of the early morning brought by the rain last night, and not yet disparaged by the morning sun, there should have been smoke coming out of the chimney. There wasn't any, so I assumed nobody was home. I quickly jogged across the clearing and approached the cottage. There weren't any lights on, so I let myself in, checking behind me as I did so.

The front room of the cottage was quant, and welcoming. I set Rukia down on a plush pink couch and made my way over to the fireplace. There were stacks of chopped wood set along the wall. I threw a few logs in. I found a small lighter on the stone mantel, and, with some difficultly, lit the fire. The warmth burst through the chill in the air like a bubble popping in water. I rubbed my hands together over the flames. I know that lighting the fire was a very risky move, but I couldn't risk having Rukia succumb to hypothermia before we even got to Karakura.

Speaking of whom, I turned around and glanced at my fellow inmate, who was still sleeping soundly. There was a slight smirk on her lips now, and I knew that she was warm and content in her inner world. I searched the room for a blanket, and found some in a big wooden chest by the fireplace. It was pure wool, so I assumed it was enough to keep Rukia warm while I searched the rest of the house for things we might need. Clothes, for example.

I tucked the wool around Rukia while she slept, making sure she was nice and snug. There was a kitchen connected to the front room, I realized. Scanning through the cupboards, I found nothing. Well, except for a variety of condiments and some old cheese that had started to turn green on the edges. I closed the cupboards with frustration, and headed back to the front room.

I glanced at Rukia. Still sleeping. I sighed, and ran up a set of stairs that led into a single bedroom and bathroom. There was a large, heavy wardrobe situated by the bed. I opened it, and found various shirts, pants, and—

A doctor's coat?

My fingers reached out to touch the soft white material. I spotted a name tag pinned on the lapel, and pulled my hand back instantly, as if I've been burned.

It was Dr. Ukitake's.

He lived _here_? In this cottage hours away from Seireitei? It seemed unlikely, but when I thought about it, it would probably only take the doctor twenty or so minutes to travel to the asylum by car. I huffed, and shook my head at our luck. At least we knew who lived here. And we knew Ukitake's work hours: very early, and very late.

I stripped my clothes off and shifted through his stuff, settling for a dark blue sweater and jeans. One quick look at my feet and I knew I wasn't ready for shoes just yet. They were covered with sores and blisters.

Then I realized that Rukia needed new clothes, too. Hers were covered with blood and ripped as well. Ukitake didn't have a girlfriend, did he?

A quick search through the wardrobe, and the answer was no. With an exasperated sigh, I picked up an old college sweatshirt and decided it was good enough.

The fire was still crackling loudly when I reached the bottom of the stairs. I watched it for a moment, entranced by the flames. It reminded me of Ulquiorra's fireplace back at the mansion. I shut my eyes quickly and willed the thought away, but it wouldn't leave. I held a scream back in my throat as memories rushed into my mind.

Aizen grabbing Rukia by the jaw.

That sickening crunching sound as I slam into both of them.

Rukia's paralyzed body.

I place my hands on my head and squeeze, trying to force the thoughts out. After a few minutes, and by slowly counting to ten, I had calmed down enough to take a step forward. I lean down next to Rukia, and gently place a hand on her shoulder. I shook it, but Rukia didn't even stir. I sigh, and lift her up so she was in a sitting position.

It was then that I was completely lost on what to do.

Should I… like, take her clothes off?

I scratch the back of my neck. This was going to be hard.

~.~.~.~.~

It took a lot of careful maneuvering on my part, but I had finally managed to take Rukia's shirt off. I tried not to stare—I really did. But it was actually her injuries, not the gentle curves of her body—that grabbed my attention with brutal vigor. Splotches of purple, yellow, and red covers most of her skin. It was almost like a mad painter had used Rukia as his canvas. Her breastbone was caved in slightly, the aftermath of my uncontrolled rage. My hands start to shake as I look at her, so I quickly threw the college sweater over her to cover it up.

Breathe, Ichigo. _Breathe. _

The sweater was big enough to hide the blood on the top of her sweatpants, so I decided removing them wouldn't be necessary. There was a lot of dirt on the hem of her pants though, so I just rolled them up a few times. They were too big for her, anyway.

I pull up the hood over her face to hide both her matted down hair, and her identity. If we were going into town, I didn't want us to be recognized. I looked in a mirror across the room—my hair was so dirty that it looked strawberry blonde. That should be good enough.

"We're going to stay here just for a few more hours, Rukia." I whisper to her sleeping form. I kneel in front of her and place a kiss on her forehead before covering her up with the wool blanket. I lie down on the floor beside her, and close my eyes, dead to the world.

~.~.~.~.~

To say that I was surprised to find two young adults sleeping on my couch, in my living room, in my clothes, would be a devastating understatement. I mean, I only came back to get my security pass that I left, and I come home to _this_?

I dropped my car keys down onto the floor with a dull tinkling noise. I was greatly surprised, but mostly curious, as to why these two people were in my home.

"Achem," I clear my throat. No response. "_Achem._"

The boy sleeping on the floor woke up with a start, while the girl still slept. He got up on his feet immediately, and stood over the girl with a protective stance. When I made eye contact with him, that's when I knew. Those amber eyes, mixed with the orange just peeking out over the mud in his hair—it was Ichigo.

"_Ichigo?_" I whisper, incredulously. I slowly take off my doctor's coat and hang it on a coatrack beside me, never breaking eye contact with the alarmed boy.

"Dr. Ukitake…" He says, unsure of himself in some way or form.

"Yamamoto told me that you ran away." I say.

Ichigo nods in agreement. "Aizen took Rukia," He nods to the sleeping girl on the couch. Ah, I could see it now. Her petite physique and raven strands of hair peeking out of the hood of my old college sweater gave her away.

"He broke into the asylum and kidnapped her." He continues.

"That explains the broken skylight in Rukia's room," I muse. It all made sense, now. Once the sirens had indicated a breach in our asylum, everyone had gone bat-shit crazy. Nurses and doctors flying everywhere, making sure their assigned patients were in their respectful places while security inspected the area. They had found Ichigo running wild through the halls, and that had stunned them enough that they couldn't get a good sighting on who broke the skylight or _why._ They were too busy taking down the immediate threat to realize a bigger one in their wake. "Yamamoto told me you jumped the fence, and that your security guards lost you in the woods. But-" I throw him an inquiring glance. "That doesn't explain how Rukia came to be with you, instead of her captor."

"They took her to Ulquiorra's mansion." Ichigo answers, his voice unsteady and shaking. "It was a trap, they knew that it would be the first place I would look. And it was." His hands clench at his sides. "They tricked me, and I ended up hurting both of them." Ichigo's voice quivers with pain, and my heart goes out for the boy and all his hardships. And it was all for friendship.

But, if the rumors that Shirayuki was spreading around were true—it was more than just a friendship.

"Ichigo," I address him. He looks up at me with pleading eyes. I could tell by the way he shifted closer to Rukia protectively that he expected me to call the police on him. "You need medical help."

He furrows his brows. "I know that." His fingers curl, forming claws. I decide that my choice of words wasn't the best, and back-tracked a little.

"No, no, Ichigo, I'm not saying that you need to go back to Seireitei." I say. "I know that it's not the place for you or Rukia, now. Just promise me you'll get help… somewhere?"

Ichigo nods, and relaxes his stance. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs, looking down at Rukia with an anxious expression. "She needs help, Dr. Ukitake." He says, "She's been sleeping for twelve hours at least, and I can't wake her up by force."

I walk over to Rukia's sleeping form on the couch. I'm about to reach out to her, to check for injuries, but I glance at Ichigo first. He nods, silently giving me permission to touch her. First, I tug down the hood of the sweater and check her skull for any critical damage. I see nothing but a few cuts on her forehead, which have already scabbed over to stop the bleeding, which was good. I pull my fingers through her hair to check for any lumps that would indicate severe head trauma, but find none. I could feel Ichigo's eyes burning into my back as I lift her up so she's in a sitting position, and hike up old sweater off of her to get a look at her vital organ area. What I find appalls me. Bruises everywhere, for one, and the worst: her breastbone had sunken in from…excessive force, no doubt. I close my eyes briefly and sigh before addressing Ichigo.

"It's hard to tell, but I'm almost positive that Rukia has internal bleeding." I clear my throat. "It could be fatal."

Ichigo swallows hard. "I need to take her to my father's clinic." He looks down at Rukia's seemingly peaceful slumbering form. "It's at least a seven hour walk." Ichigo says.

I look at the desperate boy. The first day I saw him, he was a violent homicidal maniac. An now, he still might be, but at least he can control himself. He's made improvement, and that improvement came from the girl sleeping beside him.

Well that was enough of an excuse for me.

After a few moments, I finally speak up. "I'll drive you."

Ichigo's mouth practically drops to the floor. "You—you'll what?"

"I'll drive you," I say again with a smile plastered on my face. "There is no way in _hell_ I am breaking you two apart. Not after what you both have been through."

Utter relief washes over Ichigo at the sound of my offer. "Thank you." He says.

"'Common, hurry." I say, and grab my keys from off the floor. "Pick her up. We have to go."

~.~.~.~.~

Ukitake sped. Not like ten miles over the speed limit. He _sped. _As in forty-five miles over the speed limit. I held Rukia in my arms in the backseat, holding her tight so she wouldn't be jostled by the bumps in the road. It was silent in Dr. Ukitake's Volvo except for the occasional voice of direction by me. Ukitake simply nods. He doesn't ask about how I saved Rukia, or how she got her injuries. He simply wanted to get her to the clinic, and in safe hands.

The doctor's offer had been so selfless. He was risking his job, and even life in jail, for helping us. It was courageous, and brave, and I wanted to thank him in any way I could. One day, I would repay Dr. Ukitake for his kindness. But for now, my attention was based solely on Rukia.

~.~.~.~.~

It only took us fifteen minutes for us to arrive in Karakura, thanks to Ukitake's reckless driving. He was forced to slow down in town, though. Police cars would show up on the street every so often, and we couldn't risk running over a pedestrian and getting into even more trouble than we already were. I ducked down in the backseat with Rukia to avoid a passerby recognizing us as I gave Ukitake directions to my house.

It had been months since I'd been there. And even with the assurance of my father's letter, I was nervous about confronting my father. Especially since I, you know, escaped from an asylum, performed a search and rescue, and was bringing a coma-induced girl home.

Ah, hell with it, maybe he would be proud.

Ukitake pulled up into the driveway and parked his Volvo. He doesn't even say anything, or look at us. He was probably in shock. He had just become an accomplice to an escaped psycho, after all. Who would blame him?

"Ukitake, I cannot even begin to describe how much I owe you." I say as I open the car door. He just nods as I heft Rukia up into my arms and make my way towards the house, shutting the car door with my foot as I do so.

I was too far away to hear, but Dr. Ukitake smiled and said, "Good luck, Ichigo," before backing out of the driveway and heading back to Seireitei to do the thing he does best: his job.

~.~.~.~.~

The front door was unlocked, like it always was. I open the door roughly, sending it flying against the wall with a crash. "Dad!"

"Ichigo?" Yuzu's face pops up from the hallway. "Ichi—is it really you? Wait, who's that? Is she okay?"

"Yuzu, _where is Dad_?"

"U-upstairs…" She points to the staircase. I nod to my sister and race up the stairway. The door of his study was cracked open, so I barge in. My father was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, looking forlorn.

"Not now my lovely daughter, I'm busy." He says. I pause in the door way, afraid for a moment. One glance at Rukia and I have to courage to speak up.

"Dad."

His head flicks up quickly, and his eyes reach mine. "Ichigo…"

"Hey." I shift on my feet awkwardly.

"My son…." He slowly gets up from his sitting position and walks over to me. "My son…" He reaches out to touch me, as if I wasn't real, just some apparition of the mind. "You're home."

I smile. "Dad, I'll explain everything later, but right now…" I clutch Rukia to my chest.

"Oh my God," He breathes, as if seeing Rukia for the first time. Then he regains his composure, and his face takes on a look of pure determination, a look I had seen many times in my life. A look I was used to. "Take her downstairs. I'll be right there."

I do as I'm told, and race down the stairs and into the clinic attached to our home. As I walk into the white, sterile space, I notice another figure resting on a bed across the room. I pay it no heed as I set Rukia down on one of the gurneys and start setting up an IV. My father bursts into the room wearing a doctor's coat and gloves, a stethoscope situated around his burly neck. "What's wrong with her?" His voice is balanced, and controlled. He's in full doctor mode, now.

"She has, um, a broken breastbone, I think. Internal bleeding, possibly."

"Any major head wounds?"

"No."

He puts his stethoscope onto Rukia's chest, and uses two fingers to put pressure on her wrist.

"Her heart rate is lower than normal, but nothing too serious." He takes Rukia's sweater and sweatpants and pulls them off. He isn't even stunned by her battered body. He's used to these kinds of scenes. "Because there are no major injuries to the brain, as far as I can tell, her coma was caused by the mind protecting itself from pain."

"What does that mean?" I plead.

"There isn't a very good chance she'll wake, my son." He says as he prods her broken breastbone.

"There has to be a way—" I make my way over to Rukia's side, and hold her hand. "She can't die, Dad. She's been through way too much pain to get here. It isn't fair!"

"She won't be dead, son, she'll just—"

"If she doesn't wake up she might as well be." I say, clenching her hand tighter in mine.

~.~.~.~.~

"Ichigo?" A voice calls out my name. I don't answer it. I continue to look at Rukia while my dad works on her. "_ICHIGO."_

I turn around. "What?" I call out. The voice had come from the figure in the bed I saw earlier.

It was Rangiku. Just my fucking luck.

"How did you escape?" She says, her ice blue eyes wide with disbelief.

"God, not now, Rangiku! I appreciate that you didn't give me up to Aizen and all but now it not the fucking time!" I scream at her. She shuts up, and lies back down on her bed without another word.

"Ichigo, you need to get out of here." My father tells me calmly. "You're distracting me."

"No—"

"Do as I say." He cuts me off. But I refuse to let go of her hand. That's when Yuzu and Karin burst into the room at the sound of all the commotion.

"Karin, Yuzu," my father says, "get Ichigo out of here."

The girls nod, and grab me by the backs of my arms and pull hard. I could've resisted, but the pleading look in their eyes stopped me. I couldn't fight back against my sisters. I let them drag me out of the room. Karin shut the door firmly behind us and put her hands on her hips. "What were you _thinking_?" She slapped me across the face. I reeled back, more from surprise than the actual force of her blow.

"What the hell?" I ask.

"You deserve it!" Karin yells. "You left us. You left the family."

"I'm sorry, Karin. I truly am." I was an idiot. I got involved with the wrong people, the wrong things.

She looked at me for a long time, judging the sincerity of my answer before smiling and giving me the biggest hug I'd ever received. Yuzu followed suit, silent tears streaming down her face as I hugged them back.

There was nothing more to be said. So we were silent. My sisters guided me over to the living room couch and sat down next to me, rubbing my back soothingly as I waited for Rukia to wake up.

~.~.~.~.~

After about an hour, my father entered the living room. We all looked up at him, expecting the worse.

"Rukia is stable," He says. "Only time will tell whether or not her mind is ready to come back to the real world. She has to heal herself now."

"Can I see her?" I ask. My father nods and steps aside to let me pass. I enter the clinic quietly. I glance at the corner of the room to find Rangiku sleeping peacefully. Alright, I won't have to deal with her, at least. I make my way over to Rukia, and sit in a folding chair by her side. I take hold of her hand again, and press it to my lips as I watch her unconscious face anxiously.

_Come back to me, Rukia._

~.~.~.~.~

I must have nodded off, because the feeling of a hand pressing against my shoulder wakes me up. I turn around, and see Rangiku's face, her features controlled by pity.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo."

"Why are you sorry, it's not your fault." I say sardonically.

She sighs, and shakes her head slowly. "I care for you and Rukia. All I wish for is the best future for you both."

Her comment softened me, a little. "Thank you, Rangiku."

She smiles, and her hand slips off of my shoulder. And, after a pause, "If she does wake up, what do you plan to do?"

"Run." I say without hesitation.

"You can't be serious."

"What else would you have me do?" I hiss at her. She smirks at me, as if the answer is obvious.

"_Hide_, Ichigo. You can hide."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Karakura is huge, Ichigo." She says. "If you're smart, you'll never be found. Don't make the same mistakes I did."

"Is that how you ended up here?"

She nods. "Aizen shot me."

I run fingers through my hair, anxiously. Is there any life out there that Aizen hasn't ruined? "You're right. We can't run. Not forever. But we can't stay here. Seireitei must have police on their way right now." I take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. "And _he's_ out there. Somewhere."

"He?"

"The man who shot you." I say, causing Rangiku's face to drain of color. "He slipped from my grasp like a snake before I could deliver the final blow. Aizen… he isn't dead."

/

The End.

/

**And there concludes The Ivory Tower. **

**That was a HUGE, (in my standards, anyway,) last chapter if I don't say so myself.**

**Don't worry my lovelies, all will continue in the sequel: The Colored Universe. You will find out about Rukia's past, the fight between Ichigo and Aizen, and just how exactly how Rukia and Ichigo are going to survive in the colored universe. **

**So stay tuned. **

_**- Liym Enello**_


	22. Episode 22: The Morning Will Come

**A/N: Due to popular demand, I am continuing The Ivory Tower as the fanfiction, and not an original story. Thank you for being so patient. The first few paragraphs are a recap of the end of the last chapter, and the rest is brand new shit. Enjoy! Oh, and please review. Reviews are literally my life blood and I kid you not they inspire me and make me write faster. Love you guys! - Liym**

_"Dad, I'll explain everything later, but right now…" I clutch Rukia to my chest._

_"Oh my God," He breathes, as if seeing Rukia for the first time. Then he regains his composure, and his face takes on a look of pure determination, a look I had seen many times in my life. A look I was used to. "Take her downstairs. I'll be right there."_

_I do as I'm told, and race down the stairs and into the clinic attached to our home. As I walk into the white, sterile space, I notice another figure resting on a bed across the room. I pay it no heed as I set Rukia down on one of the gurneys and start setting up an IV. My father bursts into the room wearing a doctor's coat and gloves, a stethoscope situated around his burly neck. "What's wrong with her?" His voice is balanced, and controlled. He's in full doctor mode, now._

_"She has, um, a broken breastbone, I think. Internal bleeding, possibly."_

_"Any major head wounds?"_

_"No."_

_"Her heart rate is lower than normal, but nothing too serious. Because there are no major injuries to the brain, as far as I can tell, her coma was caused by the mind protecting itself from pain."_

_"What does that mean?" I plead._

_"There isn't a very good chance she'll wake, my son." He says as he prods her broken breastbone._

_"There has to be a way—" I make my way over to Rukia's side, and hold her hand. "She can't die, Dad. She's been through way too much pain to get here. It isn't fair!"_

_"She won't be dead, son, she'll just—"_

_"If she doesn't wake up she might as well be." I say, clenching her hand tighter in mine._

_~.~.~.~.~_

_"Ichigo?" A voice calls out my name. I don't answer it. I continue to look at Rukia while my dad works on her. "ICHIGO."_

_I turn around. "What?" I call out. The voice had come from the figure in the bed I saw earlier._

_It was Rangiku. Just my fucking luck._

_"How did you escape?" She says, her ice blue eyes wide with disbelief._

_"God, not now, Rangiku! I appreciate that you didn't give me up to Aizen and all but now it not the fucking time!" I scream at her. She shuts up, and lies back down on her bed without another word._

_"Ichigo, you need to get out of here." My father tells me calmly. "You're distracting me."_

_"No—"_

_"Do as I say." He cuts me off. But I refuse to let go of her hand. That's when Yuzu and Karin burst into the room at the sound of all the commotion._

_"Karin, Yuzu," my father says, "get Ichigo out of here."_

_The girls nod, and grab me by the backs of my arms and pull hard. I could've resisted, but the pleading look in their eyes stopped me. I couldn't fight back against my sisters. I let them drag me out of the room. Karin shut the door firmly behind us and put her hands on her hips. "What were you thinking?" She slapped me across the face. I reeled back, more from surprise than the actual force of her blow._

_"What the hell?" I ask._

_"You deserve it!" Karin yells. "You left us. You left the family."_

_"I'm sorry, Karin. I truly am." I was an idiot. I got involved with the wrong people, the wrong things._

_She looked at me for a long time, judging the sincerity of my answer before smiling and giving me the biggest hug I'd ever received. Yuzu followed suit, silent tears streaming down her face as I hugged them back._

_There was nothing more to be said. So we were silent. My sisters guided me over to the living room couch and sat down next to me, rubbing my back soothingly as I waited for Rukia to wake up._

_~.~.~.~.~_

_After about an hour, my father entered the living room. We all looked up at him, expecting the worse._

_"Rukia is stable," He says. "Only time will tell whether or not her mind is ready to come back to the real world. She has to heal herself now."_

_"Can I see her?" I ask. My father nods and steps aside to let me pass. I enter the clinic quietly. I make my way over to Rukia, and sit in a folding chair by her side. I take hold of her hand again, and press it to my lips as I watch her unconscious face anxiously._

_Come back to me, Rukia._

_~.~.~.~.~_

_I must have nodded off, because the feeling of a hand pressing against my shoulder wakes me up. I turn around, and see Rangiku's face, her features controlled by pity._

_"I'm sorry, Ichigo."_

_"Why are you sorry, it's not your fault." I say sardonically._

_She sighs, and shakes her head slowly. "I care for you and Rukia. All I wish for is the best future for you both."_

_Her comment softened me, a little. "Thank you, Rangiku."_

_She smiles, and her hand slips off of my shoulder. And, after a pause, "If she does wake up, what do you plan to do?"_

_"Run." I say without hesitation._

_"You can't be serious."_

_"What else would you have me do?" I hiss at her. She smirks at me, as if the answer is obvious._

_"Hide, Ichigo. You can hide."_

_"What do you mean?" I ask._

_"Karakura is huge, Ichigo." She says. "If you're smart, you'll never be found. Don't make the same mistakes I did."_

_"Is that how you ended up here?"_

_She nods. "Aizen shot me."_

_I run fingers through my hair, anxiously. Is there any life out there that Aizen hasn't ruined? "You're right. We can't run. Not forever. But we can't stay here. Seireitei must have police on their way right now." I take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. "And he's out there. Somewhere."_

_"He?"_

_"The man who shot you." I say, causing Rangiku's face to drain of color. "He slipped from my grasp like a snake before I could deliver the final blow. Aizen… he isn't dead."_

* * *

><p><strong>Episode 22: The Morning Will Come<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Ichigo<em>

I left the clinic quietly so that the two patients, Rukia and Rangiku, could have some rest. Walking into the kitchen, I grab random plates of food from the fridge and heat it up. As I finally sit down at the kitchen table, my joints cracking and sighs abounding, my father jumps into the room, arms flailing and voice booming.

"Son!"

"Father," I sigh.

"Do you know that you look absolutely horrible?"

"No, it did not once cross my mind," I roll my eyes at him in between mouthfuls of food. Subconsciously though, I make a mental note of the condition of my body. Bloody, tattered, and worn the fuck out.

"Can I have a look at you?" My father asks, worry weaving infinitesimally into the seams of his voice. I nod my approval silently, scraps of food still clinging to my mouth. My father smiles, and eases closer to me. He throws on latex gloves (which always seem to be around) and sets to work on disinfecting and patching up my face with gauze. He asks me to remove my shirt so he can care for the cuts splattering my chest and back from the electric fence of the asylum, as well.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asks suddenly, never looking at me as he keeps all the concentration he has on his work.

"No, probably not," I answer. My family shouldn't be involved with my problems. That's the last thing my innocent little family needs.

"I'm not talking about the hospital. I meant about that experiment. What happened with that scientist, Ulquiorra?"

My body freezes. How does he know about Ulquiorra?

"Ichigo?"

"I'm not going to talk about that. Don't ever say his name again."

He grunts, but says nothing more about the subject as he plasters the last piece of gauze onto my body. My father has always been the talkative type, but never on heavy subjects. Football? He'd go on for days. My romantic relationships? Years. But once the dialogue got heavy, laden with real emotions and cynicism, he was as silent as the grave. After a moment's pause he says: "She's beautiful, by the way."

A small chuckle escapes my mouth. "I know." I watch my hands clench and unclench. "Do you really think that she'll wake up?"

"Please son, it's not rocket science." He folds his arms. "It's just a matter of time."

"How long?"

"Hard to tell. A day… maybe more." He picks up my empty plates and throws them on the tiled counter. Then he turns on the tap water and soaps it up for dishes. "She's a fighter though, I can tell. Tough as nails. Everything's going to be okay."

"I wouldn't say that so soon, Dad. The police are probably on their way here to confiscate us as we speak."

A plate clunks to the bottom of the sink with a dull _thump_. With his back turned to me, my father speaks with a newfound solemnity. "What are we going to do?"

"This isnt your problem. I'll figure it out myself."

"You're in my house, Ichigo. Every action you carry out will have its effects on all of us, including your sisters. Do you want that?" With his back still turned, and his tone laced with nervousness, "Do you really want that?"

"Of course not," I mumble, pinching my nose between thumb and index finger. "I wouldn't have come here and burdened you with my presence if I had anywhere else to go."

His shoulders tense slightly. "Well, I'm glad you're here in one piece-for the most part. Go get some rest, okay?"

"What if the police knock on your door?"

"If they have a warrant, there's nothing I can do. If not, they can't get in here unless they want to arrest me personally and have probable cause to enter."

"Oh," I say, surprised.

"Gotta love due process of law…" He chuckles, "Most likely, they won't be able to get an official warrant until tomorrow, anyway."

Running a hand through my hair, I sigh and appraise my father. "Thank you. For everything."

He just nods, like it was common for any father to hide his fugitive spawn. "Go get some sleep, son." He looks me up and down. "You need it."

And with that, I leave the kitchen and head for the living room to sleep on the couch. As soon as my head hits a pillow, I'm lights out.

~.~.~.~.~

I awaken to an incessant pounding on the door.

"Police! Open up!"

_They're here. They've found you._

Fuck.

_Run._

I slowly peep my head over the back of the couch to look down the hall, over at the door. Rain pelts the windows around it, scattering much like my brains as I try to figure out what to do. If they have a warrant, they're going to put me and Rukia away for life. I spring from the couch and head into the clinic, conveniently connected to the living room, making sure to duck out of the way of the door windows. My father will greet them and do his best to keep them away. If they barge in, I'm taking Rukia and running, simple as that. I choose to be with her just in case these are our final free moments. Closing the door firmly, a keep a hand pressed over it. If they want to get in here, they're going to have to fight their way in.

I can still hear the incessant knocking. They will probably break the door down unless my father answers immediately.

"Police!"

Shit.

Sweat beads on my forehead as I listen intently. My hand on the doorknob moistens with nervousness. And just then, I hear my father approaching the door. Slowly. He opens it, and I hear a fake yawn, as if he had been sleeping.

"Evening, officers. What can I do for you?"

"Sir, are you aware that your son and an accomplice have escaped from the Seireitei Asylum for the Criminally Insane?"

"What! Are you sure?" God, I can practically picture my father feigning surprise and concern. "My son would never do that. He's a good boy."

"May we have a look around?"

"No, you may not." Shuffling outside the doorway. My father taking a power stance and crossing his arms. "My daughters are sleeping and I'd rather not have a dozen policemen barging into my home and waking them."

"May we check your clinic?"

"Of course not. I have a patient there in critical condition. Any disturbance would be untolerated."

"Sir, I understand that you are trying to protect your son, but this is for his own good."

"My son is not here. Now, if you would please go and return with a warrant, I would be happy to show you around. But since I see that you do not have any proper cause to enter my home, I would like you to leave."

A policeman sighs from beyond the door. "Fine. I'll get you a warrant if you want a damn warrant."

"Thank you, officer,"

Just before my father closes the door, I can hear one policeman murmur to another, "Everyone's a fucking lawyer these days." Then a slam of the door, and a sigh of relief escapes both of our lips.

"Ichigo?" My father calls out from the hallway quietly.

I open the door slightly, "In here." I move out of the way and my father slips into the clinic, shutting the door tight. "The police were here."

"I know. I heard."

"How could you hear that?"

"One of the perks of being a test subject," Bitterness tastes sour on my tongue. I realize now that elevated hearing I can been experiencing earlier, when the doctors were talking about my test results in murmured voices, is one of the side effects of the experiment. That's why I was able to hear the doctors talking about my test results early on in Seireitei, and why I could hear conversations people had in muted whispers across the room in the cafeteria.

My father's eyes grow wide but he says nothing. He turns and makes his way over to Rukia's bedside to check her vitals. Telling by the consistency of beeps on the monitor, her heart is strong, and fighting for consciousness.

"Her body seems more active than when you first brought her in," My father contemplates as he checks the monitor and then opens her lids to shine a little bright light in them. "Pupils dilate at an almost normal rate. Shouldn't be long before she regains consciousness."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "She needs to wake up by tomorrow morning so we can get the hell out of here. The police are going to come back with a warrant as soon as they can."

"Where will you go?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I don't know… hotel, maybe?"

"You have no disguise. Or money."

"I was thinking that you could help me with that." I plead, desperation in my eyes that I hope my father could configure.

"Supposedly." He remarks, and swipes a hand across his face in exasperation. "We'll cut both of your hair. Dye yours black and Rukia's… red, or blonde, maybe. Get you two new clothes. You can use my credit card for the hotel. I'll say that you're a colleague of mine that is visiting the clinic, in case the police check my expenses. You'll have to use fake names, of course."

"For how long? A week? A month?" I sit down in a nearby folding chair and grab Rukia's cold, motionless hand. "I need a place that is going to keep her safe while I... take care of someone."

My father sighs. "Do I want to know?"

"No,"

"Very well." He digs deep into his pocket and hands me a platinum credit card. "Take this. You're going to have to stay at the hotel for at least a few days until you get this mess figured out. In the meantime, maybe I could find a place for you both to stay."

I take it and stuff it into my pocket. "Thank you, Dad. Really."

He nods. "As long as this is what's best for you… Nevermind. Go back to sleep. If she wakes up in the morning, I'll drive both of you to a hotel. If not…" He pauses, staring at the floor. "Then I suggest that you leave without her."

A knot develops in my gut. Squeezing her hand tightly, I say, "I wouldn't leave her."

"You might have to."

I stare at her sleeping form, worry creasing my forehead. I wrap my other hand over both of ours and just stare at her. But then my father coughs, breaking me from my hold on her.

"Seriously. Bed. Now."

I sigh and rise from my seated position and head out the door. Once I'm in the living room, I collapse on the couch yet again with my arms behind my head. Staring at the ceiling, counting sheep, but refuse to sleep. My last little bit of teenage rebellion. I stretch my hearing down the hall, listening to the resilient _beep… beep_ of her heartbeat on the monitor.

"Ichigo?" Yuzu pops into view, wearing pink pajamas and a wild brown ponytail. She yawns, and her eyes are still squinted with the remnants of sleep.

"Yeah?"

"Can I sleep by you?"

I smile. "Sure." Turning slightly, I envelop her in a hug and she snuggles beside me with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around us both.

"I missed you," she sniffs, snuggling into my side.

"Missed you too, little sis." Despite my teenage ego, tears prick my eyes.

She swivels to leave a kiss on my cheek and then closes her eyes. Soft snoring follows soon after. I can't help but smile. A snore that I once found so annoying is now comforting and welcomed. And it wasn't before long that I drift into a deep sleep to compete with hers. I tried to fight it, but exhaustion and comfort took over my body like a parasite and left nothing but unconsciousness in its wake.

~.~.~.~.~

"Ichigo." A shake on my shoulder.

No. Tired. Exhausted.

"Ichigo." Harder. Relentless shoving.

I open my eyes and speak with anger. "What?"

My father's voice. "She's awake."

Sitting straight up, I disgruntle Yuzu, but she still sleeps. I stare at my father. "Really? What time is it?"

"Four in the morning. Hurry up. She wants to see you."

I quickly slip off the couch and bound into the clinic. "Rukia…?"

She lays in her bed, an IV injected to her arm and a monitor still watching over her heartbeat. She struggles for breath. Most likely because of the broken collarbone and huge bruise on her chest. "Hey." A dull, forced whisper.

"Hi," I quickly walk a few feet and sit down in the chair and hold her hand. "Are you okay?"

"I've been… through worse." She whispers. Barely audible. That sends a spike straight through my chest. She's been through worse.

"Does it hurt to talk?" I ask.

She nods yes.

"Then don't speak," I fuss over her, making sure she's comfortable. Moving pillows. Rearranging limbs. "I grew to know your body language fairly well during your vocal strike in Seireitei. You don't need to speak."

"Okay…" she mumbles.

"Shh!" I wink at her, trying to be playful and lighten up the situation. She smiles, but it is pained.

"We need to go as soon as you can walk." I tell her. "The police were here earlier, but they couldn't get in without a warrant. They should be back in a few hours, so we have to act fast, while it's still dark enough outside to cover us."

She nods, and starts to rise from the bed, but pain etches into her features as soon as she tries to do so.

I grimace. "Um, lie back for a minute. Do you need some water?"

She nods. I leave for a moment, and bring her a waterbottle, touching the nozzle to her lips. She drinks from it and thanks me with her eyes.

"Okay, now, um, we have to cut your hair? For a disguise, you know? Mine too…" God, I feel so frenzied. "We're going to go to a hotel, but we can't go out in public like this, so we need to-"

"She understands, son," My father is leaning against the door. How long has he been standing there? "I'll go get the scissors." He comes back with a pair of scissors and two boxes of hair dye. "I picked these up while you were asleep."

I take the items from him. "Okay, how are we going to do this…" I look around the room. I could carry Rukia upstairs to the bathroom to do it, but that would jostle her too much. Cause even more pain to her bruised skin.

"You can use the sink I use to wash my hands before a procedure. I don't care." My father points to a huge sink against the far wall. That's about as close as we could get.

"Is that okay, Rukia?"

She nods. Shit, she's so brave. This is going to hurt.

"Okay…" I slide my arms under her, slowly. "Dad, can you put a chair under the sink? I don't want her to stand."

I lift her up in my arms as my father does this.

"Shit," she curses as I take a step, accidently jostling her.

"I'm sorry." I grimace and cross the room and set her down in the chair and tell her to lean her head back. After many horrible attempts, I cut her hair shorter, a couple inches below her chin. "Do you want to keep your bangs?" I make a final snip.

She rolls her eyes at me. "Where else are they gonna go?"

I glare at her for talking, but I can't help but laugh just a little. Then we dye her hair a dark red. As I'm washing the access color out of her short strands, I glance down at her. Eyes closed. Almost content. We do the same to my hair. My father practically butchered me, but it ended up looking okay. Short on the sides and long on top because I couldn't stand to have him cut the rest. Then we dyed it black.

"I'm going to give you my old reading glasses too, Ichigo. They have thick rims to cover your face." My father hands them to me and then I turn and look into a nearby mirror.

"Well shit," I murmur. "_I_ don't even recognize me."

_I see right through you, Ichigo_.

"You guys look good." My father checks his watch. "You still have a couple of hours before sunrise. Ichigo, you should pack your clothes and take some of Karin's as well for Rukia to wear. They should fit her. Take anything else you want, but keep it light. I'm going to start the car."

He leaves the room.

I look down at Rukia, who is still sitting on the chair beside the sink. She's huddled in her huge Seireitei sweats and a hospital gown, looking small but determined and full of resolve. But I still have to make sure. "Rukia?"

She looks up at me.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We could call the police and tell them what happened. They'll take you back to Seireitei, no questions asked."

"I can't go back there," she sighs.

"Don't talk-"

"I'll speak if I'd damn well like to speak." She retorts, fire in her eyes as she crosses her arms. "I can't go back there. After _years_, I'm finally back in the real world and I don't intend on leaving it."

"Fair enough," A small smile. "I'm going to get you some clothes." I leave the room and head upstairs. Briefly, I stop short at the sight of my old room. Band posters and graphic novels. Faded wallpaper and an old television set. Hidden in torn-out pockets of old textbooks lay empty plastic baggies with minor cocaine residue. You know, the usual. I fill two large black backpacks with clothes, a couple toothbrushes, and other essentials.

_Pack it light. Don't weigh yourself down. They'll catch you with density on your back. They'll strip you away from your skin to your cells. _

Oh, so you suddenly care about what happens to me, now?

_You are my vessel. I am protecting my vessel._

Whatever.

I slip into Karin's room and find my sister sleeping on the upper part of a bunk bed. Her breath comes peacefully, and the orbs of her eyes scatter under pale eyelids. Dreaming. I watch her for a few moments to remind myself of the innocent safety I once had, and tainted with bad choices. I'll never take a warm home and loving family for granted again. Rummaging through her drawers, I pick out items that I figure she could live without or clothes that father could easily replace for her. Once both of the backpacks are filled, I return downstairs and enter the clinic to find Rukia attempting to get up from her chair.

"What are you doing?" I ask with wide eyes and bags in tow.

"Standing."

"Because?"

"Because I much rather prefer being vertical than partially horizontal." She cringes when she takes a step forward. I roll my eyes. There is no stopping her.

"Here," I toss over a blue t-shirt, black sweats, and denim jacket. "Put these on. Carefully, please."

She nods.

"I like your new hair, by the way."

"Oh please," she scoffs, fingering through the chopped remnants of her once-black hair. "Thanks for the confidence boost though." She starts to take off her pants, slipping one leg out and then the other.

"Oh, I um, I'll leave." I smile, walk a few feet towards her, and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. Then I grab the backpacks, and leave the room so she could change. A car engine roars in the garage. I enter to find my father residing in the driver's seat. He waves at me, and pops open the trunk of his yellow Mini Cooper. I throw the bags in and close the trunk quietly, so as to not wake up the neighbors. We don't want any curious eyes to wander and watch us leave this impromptu safe haven.

My father rolls down the window on the driver's side and leans out. "Got everything you need?"

"I think so." Just then, Rukia steps out into the garage, all baggy sweats and drowning in the denim jacket with short red hair. Almost unrecognizable. I open the door to the car and let her choose a seat in the back before sliding in next to her. Backing the car out of the garage, my father glides the Mini Cooper out into the inky darkness of the street. He speeds down the road, cautioning for us to keep our heads down in case the police were monitoring the house.

Rukia and I obey, ducking our heads low enough so we couldn't be seen.

"I'm taking you to a motel instead of a hotel. Cheap motels don't really tend to ask questions about their guests." My father says, veering in and out of the practically non-existent traffic. "It's only about twenty minutes away from the house, so I'll be close by if you need me for anything." He throws a look over his shoulder toward our slumped forms in the back seat. "Anything at all."

After a while I feel rather than see the car pull up into the motel lot. My father turns around and tells us that it's okay to get up. We do so, spines cracking and sighs abounding. He gets out and opens up the door for us to slide out. Then he hands me the two backpacks. I throw one over my shoulder and carry the other tightly in one hand.

"You still have my credit card?" He asks.

I nod, and move in to embrace my father. He holds me briefly, but tightly. "Go inside. I don't want to risk anybody seeing you. And Rukia-" he turns toward her. She looks up at him with confusion in her eyes. "Make sure my son doesn't get into anymore trouble." He gives her a loaded look, and then pats me on the back. He slides back into the driver's seat of the Mini Cooper and veers off without another word.

"Common, hurry," I nod for Rukia to move, and she leads the way to the motel. It was called, _The Rukongai Motel,_ and had brown wooden siding curling up at the edges from moisture. The windows were muddled and the red neon sign boasting the place's name buzzed with an ominous "this is the kind of motel where you would bring a hooker" vibe. I open the dull glass door for her and shuffle us inside. I pay for a two night stay in a single room, thank the concierge, and then head down the musty, poorly carpeted hallway with Rukia at my heels.

"One bed?" She asks.

"That's all they had."

I can tell that she's rolling her eyes. "Sure."

"I'll sleep on the floor." I say as we stop at our designated room and I use a key to unlock it. We slip inside and I close the door quietly behind us. It was impudent that we keep a low profile. No noise, no disturbances. We needed to be nobodies.

"I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor." She mutters.

I turn toward the sound of her voice. She's starting to undress. Right in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my mouth going dry. I saw her body before when I undressed her back at Ukitake's cabin the woods, but there wasn't anything sexual about that moment. This, however-

"I'm going to take a shower." She pulls down her pants and walks out of them, kicking the black sweats over to a nearby corner. She tries to take off her shirt, but her face contorts in pain.

"Here," I walk over and grab her shirt by the hem and slide it off of her easily.

"Thanks," she says.

I gaze at her body, despite a little voice in my head telling me that now is not the time for teenage sexual advances. But God, I mean, she's standing right there in her underwear and I'm still a teenage boy. A crazy, mutated one, but I still have all my body parts in the right place.

"I- um," A hand finds it's way through my hair. Rukia's hand.

"Shut up," she smiles, and stands on her tiptoes to leave a kiss on the side of my mouth. "And thank you, by the way. This is going to be the first time I take a shower in years where there won't be some assistant watching my every move and gauging the temperature."

I smile, and she pats my chest and then walks over to the bathroom. Rukia closes the door behind her, and I hear her start the water.

_Go in there. You know you want to._

Please, not today. Not right now.

_You know you want her._

Of course I do.

_Then go._

I can't. I shouldn't. Fuck. I throw myself down on the creaky bed and use a pillow to block my ears. It never helps with the voice, but I still try. After a few moments, the voice calms down to minimal murmurings before receding into nothingness. I let the pillow fall, and look up to find Rukia, studded with water droplets and swathed in a small, thin, dingy white towel.

Oh, fuck.

"Are you okay?" She runs another towel through her hair with a hand that wouldn't affect her collarbone on the other side. Still, her face is etched with pain and my heart contorts at the sight. Bruises.

_You did that._

I clear my throat. "Yeah, just um, you know." I point to my head and shake it around a little. "Just some standard-issue craziness."

"I see," she sits on the edge of the bed to face me. "Want to talk about it? I read an article about what happened to you a few weeks ago, about the new evidence, but I never…" she trails off, a subtle question in the air.

"What new evidence?" My heart pumps faster. Anything involving my past with Ulquiorra or Aizen sets me on edge.

"They confiscated the security footage from his estate. They got the whole thing on tape, and now I think that the police are considering Ulquiorra's murder to be an act of self-defense, or, at least maybe manslaughter. It could be beneficial to your case."

"Then I probably shouldn't have broken out of an asylum for the criminally insane…" I shake my head. "Now I'm really up shit creek."

She rolls her eyes. "You know how our justice system is. Technically, you're still dangerous to society. They probably would have just shaved a year or two off your sentence. They would never let you go. Breaking out was still the best thing for you. "

"Is it really, though?" I put my head in my hands. "Can I be out in the real world without hurting anybody? Is it safe?"

"Shh," she places a hand on my shoulder and rubs softly in soothing circles to ease my outburst. "Everything is going to be okay."

"Look at you. Do you not see what I did to you?" Clenching my fists, I gaze up at her. Broken collarbone. Bruises. "How is it going to be okay? I can't control myself. I'll never forgive myself if you end up to be some casualty report on my record-"

Her mouth suddenly crushes to mine, a hand weaving into my hair. I freeze, completely in shock, before my hands start working, caressing her hips and back, where it wouldn't hurt. She sighs into my mouth and slides a tongue across my lower lip. I pull away. "I, uh, I can't do this…"

"Why?" We're still inches apart.

"You know why."

She frowns and pulls back. "Well can you at least help me into my pajamas?"

"Sure," I help her slide carefully into another pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Then, she gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek and slides in under the covers of the bed. "Are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the floor?" I ask, looking at the dirt and cum-stain-encrusted floor and running a hand through my hair nervously.

She simply pats the empty spot beside her on the bed and closes her eyes. I slide in next to her, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. I stare at the motel door for what seems like hours. Insomnia would not be the term to describe my current sleepless dilemma, but it was more like the unrelenting urge to watch the closed door and make sure that it stays that way. To keep her safe.

**End of Episode 22**


	23. Episode 23: The Good Day

****Episode 23: The Good Day****

* * *

><p><em>Rukia<em>

Blackness, receding slowly into gray, then a dull, muted white. I am awake. I open my eyes and immediately ask where he is. "Here," He says, standing in front of the motel window with his back turned to me and his arms crossed.

_Stance: wary. _

_Back: slouched. _

_Overall status: grouchy and underslept. _

So I ask the obvious question, "Did you sleep?"

"No,"

"May I ask why?" A hiss escapes my mouth when I sit up on the bed. Stupid broken collarbone.

"I was too nervous. The police could have been keeping tabs on the house. If they were, they could have followed us here." His back is still turned to me. Eyes steady through the blinds in the window.

"If the police knew we were here they would have arrested us already. Duh," I sigh.

He immediately turns to watch the door as if they would burst in at any moment, shoulders tense and eyes wide. "Don't jinx our luck, babe," he says as he knocks twice on the wood paneling of the window.

I scoff at the pet name and collapse back down onto the bed. I may be tired and worn out, but hell it feels good to wake up in a normal room, with no bright fluorescent lights, and nurses and doctors watching my every move. I look up at Ichigo, his back toned and slim under a white t-shirt. Even with the police on our tail, he also seems calmer. Not relaxed, no, this was no time for relaxation, but he obviously felt more human out here in the real world than in the confines of white brick walls. Suddenly, my stomach growls. "Does this place serve breakfast?"

"Most likely a _no_ on that one."

"Well, damn." My stomach growls insistently.

"I could walk to the gas station down the block and get some Poptarts or something…?"

"You're a saint. Truely."

His smile is slight, but it's there. Ichigo spends ten minutes making sure the lock on the door worked before he finally left the room. As soon as the door clicks shut, I'm up and out of the bed. I hurry into the bathroom and peer in the mirror to check the damage. Okay, there's no drool on my face, that a good sign. My hair is a mess, but otherwise I don't look too horrible. I know that Ichigo has seen my at my worst but I still feel insecure about him seeing me just as I wake, so vulnerable with sleepy eyes and morning breath. Satisfied with my appearance, I leave the bathroom and start to rummage through the two backpacks that Ichigo brought. There are a few sets of clothes for both of us, along with toothbrushes, shampoo, and other toiletries. I start to unpack the clothes and move them to the dresser when Ichigo knocks lightly on the door and then enters, with delectable pastries and single-servings of milk. "Hey. When I went to the gas station, nobody gave me a second glance. I think the disguises are working."

We sit down on the creaky motel bed and make plates out of napkins. I gobble down three packages of the stuff in less time than it took Ichigo to get them.

"Damn shorty, how are you so skinny?" He asks in between mouthfuls. It reminds me of the talks we had in the Seireitei cafeteria. Conversations detained by the all-seeing eye of security cameras, but great conversations all the same.

"High metabolism," crumbs fly out of my mouth, and he laughs.

"Obviously," he smiles.

"So," I turn on the shitty television in the room for some background noise. Standard, buzzy, basic cable. "What are we going to do?"

Ichigo's once-light facade fades into a dark demeanor. "I'm going to make sure that you are somewhere safe, and then I'm going to kill him."

A heavy feeling drops in my gut. "Aizen is still alive? You didn't kill him back at the-"

"No." His gaze avoids me as he sips from a milk carton.

A million thoughts run through my mind at once, and I can't control my outburst of words. "Why didn't you finish it? Now we have more than the police on our asses, we have Aizen too? We're fucking screwed."

"I don't know why, Rukia," he sighs, a index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose. "It just… It wouldn't let me."

"It?"

"The other part of me, you know," he points to his head half-heartedly. "The insane part."

"Oh. I thought you were just…"  
>"Crazy?" He laughs. "No. I used to be the cliche, druggie high school drop-out, until Aizen found me on the street. And, well, I think you know the rest."<p>

I nod, and stare at a dark stain on the bed's comforter. The kidnapping, the experiments. I didn't know the full extent of it, but I knew for a fact that Ichigo wasn't completely human.

"There's always that sick, inner part of me fighting for my body. Normally, it's fairly easy to control. But if I get emotional…"

"Like back in Seireitei? In the cafeteria?"

"When I almost murdered that bitch of an escort, Renji? Yeah. Lost control. Among many, many other incidents." He stares at my collarbone, exposed by the wide hem of the pajama shirt. It's purple and swollen. I clutch the comforter in between my fingers, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He rises from the bed and moves toward the bathroom without even looking at me.

"Ichigo?" I ask. He turns to look, and my heart clenches at the glistening sight of pain in his eyes. "I'm not mad you know, about the broken collarbone. Accidents happen. I don't blame you."

He shakes his head, as if he's disappointed in me. "I know. And that scares me," he mumbles, and opens the bathroom door before slamming it behind him.

~.~.~.~.~

_Ichigo_

_We shouldn't have slammed the door on her._

You mean that _I _shouldn't have slammed the door on her.

_You forget that you and I are the same._

I turn on the shower faucet to drown out the voice in my head. Feeling the steaming hot water pour over my body, I allow myself to relax. Breathe. In, out. In, out. My ears pick up some shuffling of feet outside of the hotel door. Instantly I am frozen, despite the hot caress of the water, focusing all of my attention on that sound. The cops. Shit. I'm about to pounce out of the shower, grab Rukia, and run, but then the feet move away from the door.

_It was probably just someone loitering in the hallway. _

No…

The bathroom door opens. I tense up. Shit. It is the cops. It's them. Fuck. I'm about to turn off the water and jump out when the shower curtain suddenly opens to reveal-

_Rukia?_

"Hey!" I try to cover myself with the shower curtain but she simply tosses it aside and steps into the shower. She's naked. Oh, shit, she's naked and I'm naked and I-

"Hey." She says calmly, and starts to wet her newly-red hair.

"What," I have to clear my throat. My eyes shift down her body. I can't help it. Her pale, smooth skin. The flat plain of her stomach that subtly curves into her hips and supple thighs. "What are you doing?"

"Taking a shower. I still feel dirty." She lathers shampoo in her hands and runs them through her dark red hair. She turns around, her sparkling amethyst eyes gaze up at me. My heart just fucking stops. "Can you get my back? I couldn't reach it last time."

Shit, because it hurt, with her collarbone. I lather soap in my hands before gently placing my hands on her shoulders. "You sure?"

She nods.

I sigh, and carefully run my hands down her shoulders, neck, back… lower. Shit, she has the greatest ass I've ever seen. I pause for a beat before I lay my hands on her ass and rub up and down, massaging her. She doesn't laugh or turn around to hit me. She wants this. My nagging teenage urges take over and I adamantly press myself against her back and my hands reach around to grab her small breasts that I adore, massaging them in my hands. She leans her head back against my chest and moans slightly. She reaches around and grabs my growing erection in her small, pale hand. A hiss escapes through my teeth, as she strokes up and down.

"Rukia," I moan, and then as much as it pained me to do so, I reach down and grasp her hand to stop her movements. "I can't."

"I want to."

"You're hurt. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." She turns around and stares me straight in the eyes for what seems like forever but only lasted a second. That's it. I can't fight her. She's unraveled my soul with that look. I grasp her hips and lift her up. Her legs instantly wrap around my waist and I hold her, kiss her with all the passion I had that I couldn't show under the glare of the cameras. It was - finally- just me and her in the world.

~.~.~.~.~

_Rukia_

He kisses me, fervently, passionately, like he's never kissed me before. I slide my tongue into his mouth and play with his- a dance of emotion and fire that could not be quenched by even the cold wetness of this shower. Without breaking the kiss, Ichigo steps out of the shower, one hand under my ass and the other reaching to open the bathroom door. I would be cold in the open air, but I'm wrapped around Ichigo. I could not possibly be cold in this moment. He's everywhere, all around me, and I'm all around him. He gently, so gently that I barely even feel it, lays me down on the creaky, old bed. I can't even feel my injuries with his body around mine. My mind is on him and only him. I drink in the sight of his lean body that I had never seen before. He's beautiful. Even smothered in cuts and bruises he is beautiful, and I want to kiss every inch of him.

He balances his weight on his elbows as he leans over me. I rest my head on a pillow and he kisses me deeper, his hand reaching down and clutching at my waist, then grasping my ass. I moan into his mouth- I've been with a man before, but oh god, it was not like this man that stands before me now. He is so consuming, like a fire that I could not see but I could feel.

Ichigo pulls back for a moment to look into my eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I lean up and press my lips to his, bringing him back to me. I would be lying if I said I hadn't been waiting for this moment since he barged into the Seireitei cafeteria and landed on my table with a security pass in one hand and raised fist in the other. He's always been so demanding and hot-headed and ridiculous, but he's been the brightest part of my latest days. "I want you."

He groans and weighs himself down on me, just enough to make me feel safe and wanted without being painful, I wrap one hand around his neck, bringing him even closer, while the other glides down his chest and hard, chiseled wait is almost unbearable. He shivers, "Rukia…"

In one move, he glides into me. I cry out- the feeling is intense.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes hard against my neck and starts to move, slowly, easing in and out with gentleness. My hips rise to meet his, and we're in sync, like we've never been before. His hand grasps my jaw and almost forcefully opens my mouth so he can massage my tongue with his. It's hot, and heavenly. I love it.

"Yes," I breathe, as he starts to move faster. He's everywhere, all over, and the feeling is so fanatical that my toes curl and I feel a deep pressure build up in my groin. "Faster,"

He complies, his hand curling around my ass and grabbing it hard, pushing himself deeper into me. I moan, and he nips at my neck as I cry out. He bites softly, licking over it and then blowing on the moisture. The feeling is cold and contrasts with the burning heat between us. It's insane, my entire body smothers in goosebumps.

"Shit, Rukia," he whispers in my ear, nipping at the lobe. His hot breath glides down my neck and I shiver once more. I feel close. I grasp at his shoulders, begging for him. He continues his movements, now pounding hard and fast into me like it's his last night on earth. I can't help it- I scream his name and I come, hard, surrounded by his skin and sweet breath and sweat. He follows soon after, with one final thrust, and empties himself into me. We lay there, in a perfect moment of coital bliss, breathing as one heavenly body. He kisses me on the forehead and slowly eases of out me, leaning on his side and wrapping an arm around my waist as I turn to face him.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, worry etches into his brow.

"No," I smile, "I don't think so."

"I shouldn't have done that. I needed to be more careful. You're recovering and I-"

Quickly, I shut him up with a kiss. "You're a piece of work, you know that? Just shut up."

He laughs, and wraps his arm tighter around me. I look up at him, and his face flushes red. "I, uh-" He stutters, "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

"Me too," I snuggle closer to him. He plants a kiss on top of my head and sighs contentedly, easing back into the pillows and throwing a blanket over us to keep warm.

"You wore me out, shorty."

"Shut up!" I smack his chest. "You're the one that decided not to sleep last night. Not my fault you're an insomniac."

"You little-"

There's a knock at the door. Both Ichigo and I look up at each other in shock. It couldn't be the police. I was right, if they knew where we were, they would have taken us already. Who could it be? Ichigo wraps me up in the blanket and shifts out of the bed. He quickly throws on a pair of sweatpants and pads over to the door. He looks through the peephole, and then curses loudly.

"Who is it?" I ask.

He doesn't respond. He opens the door only a crack, and growls, "What do you want?"

"Your father sent me." A woman's voice. "Can I come in?"

Ichigo scoffs. "Che, sure." He opens the door wide. What is he doing? I'm only wrapped in a blanket! A busty woman with long, auburn hair stands in the doorway. By the look on her face, I could tell that she was surprised to see me. Jealous, even. Then she recovers herself and steps into the room cautiously.

"H-Hi." She stammers, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Hello," I say and look her up and down. Shit, she sure as hell dressed up come to the good 'ol Rukongai Motel. She sports a plaid mini skirt and a white blouse, unbuttoned to reveal a heavy amount of cleavage.

"Orihime," Ichigo addresses her, "This is my girlfriend, Rukia."

"Girlfriend?" Orihime's mouth pops open and she stares at me, blushing. Quickly, but not quickly enough, she recovers herself and smiles, waving at me. "Oh, of course. How nice to meet you Rukia!"

"Hello," I break eye contact with her to stare at Ichigo, I don't say anything, but he knows that I'm confused.

Ichigo sighs. "You said that my father sent you?"

"H-hai!" Orihime blushes, and turns to hand him an envelope she had kept behind her back. "He didn't say anything, just told me to give it to you. Ichigo, I, uh," she glances at me quickly, up and away, "I was hoping that you and I could go get some lunch and talk, but I see now that you're preoccupied."

"Oh, yes," Ichigo turns to smirk at me, "We were very preoccupied."

My face is red. It's fucking red.

Orihime turns her nose up at me and then waltzes back over to the door, where Ichigo is standing. "Well, I hope that you two are _happy_ together in your little hovel." She swivels on her heel and slams the door behind her.

"Ouch," I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm guessing that you guys have a history?"

Ichigo swipes a hand across his face with exasperation. "Orihime and I? Yeah, I guess you could say that." He smirks and walks over to the bed and sits beside me. "If you didn't look so delicious right now, I'd tell you all about it…" he leans in for a kiss, a smirk still gracing the outer edges of his lips. My eyes start to close with expectation, but I lay a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Let's just pretend I don't look delicious- whatever that means- what's the story?"

Ichigo growls, and flops down onto the bed with an arm hanging over his forehead. "We dated in our second year of high school in Karakura, but I broke it off after about a month. She was _way_ too clingy."

"I can see that," I laugh. "So, she's still got the hots for you?"

"Ugh, Rukia, this Orihime girl is in love with me. It's ridiculous. I don't even want to talk about it."

"Fine, fine," I lean over him, and playfully place a kiss on his cheek. "So, you were saying that I looked delicious?"

"Mmm," Ichigo looks me up and down. "Yes ma'am." Suddenly he's on top of me, and our lips are sealed in kiss. I pull away, trying to formulate words out of my gasping mouth.

"What about the letter from your dad?" I ask.

"Not as important as what I'm looking at right now," He slowly eases down lower, sucking on the sensitive skin of my neck. Goosebumps. The letter is forgotten. Ichigo hums and moves even lower, hovering over my breasts. He looks up at me, as if to ask for permission. I give him a slight nod, and he smiles and wraps his tongue over one of my nipples. The sensation is so intense that I release a moan from his simple touch. "Shh, baby," he smirks, and glides lower, leaving small bites and kisses down my abdomen. "Now, Rukia, you'll see why I said you were delicious," he says and then proceeds lower, to that most secret part of me. I gasp, and reach down to grasp at his hair to steady me. In this moment, my mind wandered away into a plain of bliss; of perfect, wonderful bliss. In this moment, I loved Ichigo Kurosaki.

It was a good day.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you guys for your wonderful reviews last chapter! I hope that I shed a little bit of light on Ichigo and Orihime's (brief) relationship. I know that there are still a lot of unanswered questions, so please tell me what you want to find out most in a review, and I'll try to work it into the next chapter! Thanks for all your support guys.**

**-Liym**


	24. Episode 24: The Takeover

****Episode 24: The Takeover****

* * *

><p>Ichigo's head popped out from under the sheets, his features pulled into a delectable smile that melted my insides. "How was that?"<p>

"Great. Yes. Uh," I blush furiously. "Great."

He laughs, his head craning back and his mouth agape, with hand clutching his spastic stomach movements. "You're cute when you're flustered."

I smack his arm. "I'm always cute, dammit."

"Agreed." A spark meets his eyes. His entire demeanor bellowed happiness. I just didn't understand it. I mean, I was happy too, but that didn't mean that the constant cloud of fear had not dissipated. Briefly, I wonder if he was hiding his true feelings. I look down at my hands, twiddling my thumbs with a mountain of old sheets wrapped around me.

"Ichigo?"

"Yeah? What's wrong?" He sits up and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Why aren't you scared?"

His face grows cold, and distant. He stares off into space, ignoring me completely as he releases his hold on me, breaking any contact. I pat him on the shoulder. "Ichigo?" Still, nothing. "Please, just talk to me."

"I _am_ scared, Rukia." His eyes are glued to his hands, displayed before him, fanned out beside his thighs. "I'm really fucking scared."

"Oh. You hide it well. I'm sorry for bringing it up-"

"Don't be," he gazes up at me, his lips trembling slightly. "Don't be sorry. In reality, this fear is all around us. I'm surprised that we made it this long without giving it some thought."

"I don't want to be scared anymore. I want this to be over with."

He reaches up and carresses my cheek with the back of his hand. "I promise that I'm going to end this. When I know you're safe, I'm going to kill him."

"I don't want you to kill him." My voice rises with new fire. "You're going to get hurt. He'll kill you."

"I don't have a choice, Rukia!" He shouts. Briefly, I see his eyes flash a golden color, but it was probably my imagination.

"Yes you do!" I raise my hands with exasperation. "Jesus, you always have a choice!"

He stands up, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants, and faces the window, his back heaves with heavy breaths.

"Ichigo, you can't protect me from this. The only way we can both live is if we stay in hiding, and hope that Aizen doesn't find us."

"Fuck!" Ichigo pounds the wall beside the window with his fist, leaving a palm-sized hole, with multiple cracks creeping up the dirty white walls. I flinch, wrapping the sheets around me and backing away on the bed slightly. We stay in this suspension of silence for just a few seconds, and then he turns to look at me. The whites of his eyes fade into a midnight black, his irises a bright, golden color. He stares at me, his chest heaving, skin dotted with sweat. My heart skips a beat out of fear.

"Ichigo, your eyes…"

And just like that, he's right in front of me, pushing me down on into the confines of the mattress. "We can kill him, love. We can kill him."

"Ichigo!" I try to push him off of me with my hands, but it's as if he's made out of steel. "Get off of me. What are you doing?"

"We can kill him. We can kill him. We can kill him." His voice grows higher, a creepy tone that vibrates up my spine and causes me to shiver. He leans closer, smelling my hair and then turning to whisper into my ear. "Ichigo's scent is still on you. He's too in love to risk his life to kill Aizen, but I don't love you. Together, we can kill him."

I close my eyes, pushing away from his touch as hard as I can. "Ichigo, _stop!_"

Immediately, the weight on my body lifts and I open my eyes. I lean up on my elbow in search of him. Ichigo sits on the edge of the bed with his back turned to me and his head in his heads. He's shaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His words tremble.

Shit. What have I gotten myself into? I'm in love with a man who can't control the inner demon that was thrust inside of him. I warily crawl towards him, leaving the sheets behind. I wrap my naked body around him, enclosed him with all the comfort I have to give.

"I love you," I whisper against his shaking shoulder.

A simple laugh, forced and choked with tears escapes his mouth. "I love you, too."

~.~.~.~.~

_Ichigo_

_Mmm, she's squirming right underneath. I can practically taste her. All I can think about is taking her tight little body and flipping her over so I can fuck her from behind._

Please, please don't hurt her.

_She's mine, Ichigo. I have control now._

"Ichigo, _stop!_"

Her biting words are like a surge of strength entering my mind. I beat down the demon with force, giving all my energy and focus on regaining the use of my body. It hasn't been long, so I haven't blacked out yet. If I don't retake control now, I don't know what he'll do to her. I can't let that happen. With one final push, I seize control, and now I'm looking through my own eyes again. I immediately retreat from Rukia, just in case the demon takes over again. I sit on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands.

How could I have lost control? It was just a stupid argument, something I would have never lost control of before. Maybe it was because of the hopelessness I felt. She was right, if I fought Aizen again, there was a great chance that I would be hurt. An even greater chance that I would be killed. He was too smart, too manipulative. Aizen had so many people on his side. What do we have? We're just two kids with my father's credit card in a nasty little motel with the police on our backs. It's us against the world. We have nothing. God, and she was so scared - of course she was. I wasn't myself. A completely different, sadistic person with bad intentions.

All of these thoughts run rampant through my mind as I hear her sit up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

_God, stop trembling. _

Not again. Please, please don't try to take over. I don't need you right now.

_But I want her. My way._

You'll never have her.

My ears pick up the sound of Rukia making her way across the bed. I should go. I should leave. It's too dangerous for her to be near me. I couldn't bear it if I hurt her. Before I can make my final decision I feel her naked torso against my back. She wraps her thin, little white arms around me and holds me hard. She opens her mouth and utters, "I love you."

Fuck. I'm so selfish. I shouldn't say it, but it's true. "I love you, too."

We sit like that for a long, long time. It's only when I think about how tired her arms must be that I gently ease her appendages off and stand up. Turning towards her, I take in the beautiful sight of the woman I love. Her skin, so pale and baby soft, illuminated by the light of the window. Her new red hair, which I must say is growing on me, is tossed every which way with a few snags, but god, does she look adorable. She's too good for me.

"I'm sorry. That will never happen again."

"Don't make promises that you can't keep." She says calmly, and stands up to face me. She's so tiny, I have crane my neck down to face her, but she definitely makes up for it with spunk. "It will probably happen again, but I trust you. I know you won't really hurt me. We can work on it, if you'd like. Test you to see what your triggers are, and what will pull you out of it."

I smile at her. She's too strong, too beautiful, and way too smart for me. But she is mine. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"Oh, shut up. Of course it is." She flips her hair over her shoulder. "Now, before you distracted me earlier," her face flushes red for a brief moment, "I wanted to open the letter that your father sent your ex for."

"Che," I rub the back of my neck out of embarrassment. "I honestly don't know why he did that. He really likes you, and sending Orihime is a bit, well… awkward."

She shrugs her shoulders. "Whatever, let's have a look."

We both quickly throw on some clothes. I pick up the letter, and tilt my head while I stare at the writing of my name on the front of the envelope. "That's strange. It doesn't look like my father's handwriting."

Rukia's brows furrow while she nudges me to open the letter. I comply, running a finger up and across the paper fold to release the piece of expensive paper with lovely purple calligraphy.

_Dear friends,_

_As soon as you read this, I will know where you are. I sent Orihime to go find you, knowing that your fool of a father would most likely tell her of your location, given your background together. It wasn't hard to sway the girl to do my bidding, especially since she's heartbroken and hungry for cash. Don't worry, I won't hurt Orihime, if she does her job well. I told her to deliver this letter to you if she found your little hiding place. In the envelope is a small tracking device taped to the inner fold. It won't take me long to reach you. Trust me, I've never been far away. For the sake of the game, I sent you this letter for a head start. I hope that you read it as soon as it reached you. This game won't be fun if you're an easy kill._

_Your friend._

Without thinking, I throw the paper down and grab the two black backpacks, still filled with most of our essentials.

"Holy shi-" Rukia shouts as I grab her hand, forcing her to run with me. We race down the hallway of the motel. I know that going out the front door would be too obvious. I frantically search for a back exit. There is one right at the end of the hall. The red exit sign flashes on and off as if it's some kind of warning signal.

"Ichigo, what are you-"

"He knows we're here." I whisper to her, holding her hand and keeping her close against my chest as I pause, trying to decide what the fuck I needed to do to survive.

"Aizen?"

I nod, and her face grows pale. We quietly sulk out of the back exit and into a dimly-lit parking lot. The light has receded into a molten orange sunset that cast long shadows on the city. We have no car, no food, nothing.

"Fuck," I say under my breath. "What do we do?"

"We could take a bus?"

"To where?" I say as I scan the parking lot for him, or one of his associates. The parking lot offers nothing except for a few shitty cars. Holding Rukia's hand tightly, I make my way over to the cheapest looking car and jiggle the handle. "It's unlocked." I open the door and peer in. The keys are resting in the passenger seat. What an idiot, but then again, whoever owns this hunk of junk probably thought that no one would ever steal it. "Get in. We're not taking a damn bus, they have schedules, and would be too easy to track."

"We're stealing a car?" Rukia exclaims as she releases my hand and scurries into the passenger's side.

"Borrowing. And we really don't have much of a choice." I slide into the driver's seat, stick the keys in the ignition, and rev the engine. It sounds like shit, but it runs. "It's not like I have any way of contacting my father without Aizen on our trail."

We speed out of the parking lot and into the heavy traffic of the street. My palms bleed sweat onto the steering wheel. Rukia rests her hand on my thigh, her fingers shaking.

"Where will we go?"

"I don't know." I mutter, and squeeze the steering wheel. "I still have my dad's credit card, but I'm scared that Aizen will track our purchases. Can he do that?"

"Not sure," she says, her eyes glued to the road behind us to see if we are being followed. "He has a lot of my money, that's for sure. It wouldn't surprise me if he bought off a cop to do it."

"Shit," I veer in and out of traffic, speeding past a red light and then finally out into rural roads, away from the city. "Do you know any place that we could stay? Where Aizen would never think to go?"

Her facial features twist with thought, her hold on my thigh tightening. "I have a house. Well, my parents' house, before they died. I read in the paper once that the estate has been on the market for years. It's abandoned."

"Lead the way."

Rukia gives me directions to her "house." It's not a house, it's a fucking mansion. I knew that Aizen had possessed all of her money, somehow, but she never really gave me the details. Apparently, Rukia's parents were fucking loaded before they died. The "house" was beautiful, with a long driveway leading up to a white stone estate, complete with english windows, and black and gray stone trim. Large marble steps led up to the huge, dark, wooden front doors. Rukia told me to park in the back, so the car wouldn't be seen if anyone came up the driveway. I put the car in park and then looked over at Rukia. Her face was pale, and a bead of sweat had formed on her temple. I wipe the perspiration away with my thumb, and comb my hand through her hair. "You okay?"

She swallows, and nods. "Yeah. Just haven't been here in a while."

I nod. I understand. Home, not matter how big, always held a lot of memories and pain. "Common, let's go. I don't want to stay out here, it's not safe."

She slides out of the car as I do, and then she leads me through a quite, bubbling garden that regular people call a "backyard," up another set of marble steps, and to a quaint back door.

"Through here," she mumbles, and jiggles the door handle. It takes a bit of elbow grease, but the door opens with a few squeaks. "This is supposed to be a backdoor for service people or whatever."

"_Service_ people?"

"You know, maids and butlers and whatnot."

"Oh, of course, how could I forget the butlers?" I tease. She smiles and punches my arm, but her smile does not reach her eyes. We meander through multiple hallways, through a kitchen, and into the main hall. There is a thick layer of dust over everything, a result of it not being lived in for years, but I can still see the magnificent beauty that this estate used to carry. Rukia simply sighs and heads up the main stairs of the grand foyer. I follow her giddily, my steps bouncing. I have never been in such a nice place before. I'm looking down at my feet, admiring the plush white carpeting when I bump into Rukia, who has stopped at the top of the stairs, her fists clenched and her shoulders shaking.

"Rukia?" I place a hand on her shoulder. "Baby?" I look down to where her eyes are glued on the floor. There are large patches of carpeting removed, leaving a trail of awkward wooden patches where it used to be.

"This is where the blood trail started." She pointed to the ground, and then her finger lifted and traveled down the hallway, where the patches of wood creeped up and into what appeared to be a bedroom. "That's where they died."

"We don't have to stay here-"

"We have no where else to go," Rukia says calmly, and then steps forward, avoiding the wooden patches as much as possible. I can hear her panicked breath as she walks past what must have been her parents' room, but she says nothing. "My old room is through here…" She pads through a separate hallway, and then opens a large, baby-blue colored door.

"Wow," I breathe. Her room is bigger than the first floor of my house. A small, blue living room set is in the middle, with multiple blankets and pillows thrown over the couch for show. A beautiful antique white dresser occupies a whole wall, along with a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Her bed is what really gets me, though. It's a light cream colored four-poster bed with a silken canopy over the top. The sheets are also silk, and the same baby-blue color as the door. I can tell that it will be the comfiest bed I'll ever sleep in just by looking at it. "So this is how the other half lives."

"Please stop," Rukia glares at me. "I'm more than my parent's money."

"I know that." I gently turn her around and hug her from behind. "I just didn't know you lived in such luxury, shorty."

She smacks my chest playfully. "Shut up."

I smile, and kiss the top of her forehead. "We'll have to sneak out and get food tomorrow, yeah? I'll go to three different grocery stores, out of town, just in case Aizen can track the credit card. We'll stock up, and then we won't have to leave for a while. It'll be just you… and me," I face Rukia and tilt her chin up, "and that lovely, king-sized bed you got there."

"Ichigo!" She smacks my chest. I smile and lean down to leave a small, chaste kiss on her lips.

"You tired?" I ask her. She nods. We spend the next half-hour brushing the dust off of her bed and changing the sheets to make it sleep-able. Once the bed was finally ready, I watch Rukia as she slips out of her clothes. "What are you doing?"

"I like sleeping naked," Rukia shrugs her shoulders. "I couldn't really do it in Seireitei. I'm making up for lost time."

I sure as hell wasn't going to complain. As she shimmies out of her panties, I have to avert my eyes so I don't get too excited. We were both tired, and we were just going to sleep, that's all. However, I do decide to make it fair, and slowly take my shirt off. I watch her eyelids hood and she bites her bottom lip. Then, I shimmy out of my pants and boxers, letting her see me in all my mutated glory. We both slip under the silk sheets and snuggle close, our noses touching. I wrap an arm around her back, holding her close as I stretch my hearing down the hall out of paranoia. There was nothing but silence. We are safe here.

Rukia kissed my cheek, and then places a hand on my chest, burrowing herself into me. "Goodnight, Ichigo."

"Hey, Rukia?" I have to ask.

"Yes?"

"Do you…" I hesitate, my pull on her becomes tighter.

"What? What is it?"

"Do you really think we're better off out here in than in Seireitei?" I'm frozen in place while I wait for her answer, my breath quickening. Her breath stops. She's thinking. After a while, she lets out huge gust of air and breathes back in. She's about to speak.

"No."


End file.
